Tales From a Neurotic Romantic

I am a very tired working single mom and girlfriend that is surviving life with humor. As long as I'm laughing, I'm not crying, right?!!?

Razz and Jazz



I've been at a loss for topics to write about. So here's a list of shit that I'm jazzed about and some crap I'm gonna razz. It's kind of an on-going list that I'll continue to add to.

1. ~JAZZ~   My man's Wii. I've decided that the Wii is the perfect machine. I can't believe I protested this long over a machine that is the epitome of awesomeness. I bow to thee, Wii, I bow to thee.

2. ~RAZZ~  "Personal" letters from politicians. I am TIRED of these flyers, postcards, and actual letters from politicians. My mailbox is tired of it too. I'm scared that tomorrow I'll arrive at my mailbox and it's going to bitchslap me.

3. ~RAZZ~  While I'm still on the subject of politicians, I'm tired of the presidential ad campaigns. And I know it's only going to get worse as we plug along to November.

4. ~JAZZ~  The Olympics. I am so damned jazzed over this years Olympics. Never have I cared before. And honestly, I owe it all to Michael Phelps. That man is simply friggin amazing.

Better Go Stick Up Your Car


I had a strange realization earlier today. I was driving home from the store and this little car pulls out in front of me. And he was CLOSE. Way to close to hitting me. And I started to get pissy, until I saw a Michigan State University sticker on his car, and I noticed I didn't care anymore that he almost crashed into me. WTF?

Just because we share a love of a state school (who sucks usually at every sporting event) I stopped getting pissed? Do bumper stickers carry THAT much responsibility? Do they have that much influence? I looked around and saw a car that had a sticker that had the Equal Rights Campaign equal sign logo on it and I thought to myself, "Hm, they could have actually crashed into me and I wouldn't care because they want equal rights for EVERYONE including gays, lesbians, etc."  I used to have that same sticker on my car. I found myself liking that person in the car and I have NO IDEA who she was.

Why do we wear ourselves on the outside of our cars? Why do we want the entire world to know what bands we like or who we are voting for? I mean, thanks for the warning that if your horn is broken to watch for your finger. And congrats that your child is an honor student at his school. I am a little worried that your dog is your copilot and I'm sorry that you'd rather be fishing than stuck in traffic. And I don't really care that I'm close enough to your bumper to read that sticker that's complaining I'm too close.

My car has no stickers on it anymore. Now that I'm older I am finding myself painfully aware that when you emblem your car, it's kind of a permanent gesture. And I'm a little committment-phoebic right now. No drastic measures. I can't be sure that I will still love and adore any band/politician/charity/hobby in 6 months let alone 6 years from now. I am too scared to adorn crap like that to a hunk of machinery that costs a lot of money. I don't want to let everyone know what I like so quickly. I like a little mystery. I prefer to be secretive. I'm an enigma dammit!!!

"Splainin' the ol' username....and add a fight....


My username for everything has been July19 for two years. People have asked why July19 and what does it mean. And it's because my son's birthday is today. My son is officially 2 years old. We aren't huge b-day people in my family. So we aren't doing anything huge. We're going to my boyfriends' parents house and having dinner. We made him a Lego cake that turned out really great. You cut a 9 by 13 in cake in thirds, then you cut one of the thirds in half. So you end up with 2 rectangles and 2 squares. Then you cut marshmallows in half and "glue" them on the cake to make the lego parts. It's super cute. And we did the primary colors of Lego: Red, Blue, Green, and Yellow.

Now if only we were all in good moods in this house, this would be a happy day. But my son woke up in a terrible mood and apparently the rest of us did too. I'm fighting with my mother which spawned a big fight with my man. Now we're all in separate rooms and no one is talking to anyone (thank god my son is still taking a nap and missed all the yelling!)It's pouring rain and is foggy and wasn't it a full moon?!

Tourist Season (Why can't I shoot them then?)


I have lived in the same town for my entire life. I live in a small, well-to-do tourist town with a population of around 6,000 for like 9 months of the year. Then for the 3 summer months our population swells to about 100,000. And having observed these tourists and their families for over 2 decades I have some grumblings....stemmed from recent happenings...

How can they all have kids? And a lot of them? And they apparently don't teach their 2 dozen children to look both ways before crossing the f-ing street (at a non-designated crosswalk nonetheless). So then you SLAM on your brakes to avoid hitting them and then they look at you like you're the moron. But then they take 2 years to cross the damn street. LOOK, I'm on my way to work, and having your beach chair collapse and fall off your shoulder during your walk across the street is making me LATE for work. I don't have all damn day like you do. Now get the f*ck out my way!

We have a few complicated intersections in our tiny town. But if there is NO stop sign posted, why oh why are you stopping? I know it looks like all four ways should be stopping, but there are such things as 2 way stops! And for gods sake, figure out how to drive through a round-a-bout traffic circle thing! YIELD!! YIELD DAMMIT! 

I live in an upscale community with hundreds of expensive condos and beach houses. And they arrive in their designer clothes and their brand new sporty cars. So they obviously have money, right? So why don't they tip their >fabulous< waitresses better? We get paid $2.60 an hour!! We don't serve you because we like being your b*tch. We don't burn our arms on your eggs benedict because we're masochists. We do it because the money is good. Or at least it's supposed to be good. But we had three waitresses not even get tipped (I was one) last weekend and then all of us keep getting puny tips. We understand that the economy sucks right now and that the price of everything is soaring, but if you can't afford to go out, then don't.

I have more complaints, but I need to go brave the grocery store. Which is 1000 times worse with all them here now. Whiny brats screaming in the cookie isle that they want a brand of cookie that "this stupid tiny town has never heard of because they all suck sssoooo bbaadd!!!!!". And I know very well that when I travel, I am the tourist. And I'm sure I have done clueless things and then they probably hate me. But for god's sake, I know I'm not that bad. I can't be!

Kiss & Show & Tell.......


I think maybe I need SA. Sexaholics Anonymous. I know there are hormone problems that can cause zero sex drive, but I wonder if there are hormone problems that can cause you to want sex all the time. I am overly affectionate and touchy and could have sex any time any day. And I am bothering my man. I am too horny.

Even after a long 10 hour day on my feet where I don't sit and don't stop moving even for a second, I can still go home and want him. And I can't always do that. I am not deprived by any means, I get it several times a week. But I believe the main issue is that he doesn't want to feel like a piece of meat that I paw at constantly. I am actually with a man that wants more than sex. Which I suppose I should be happy about. And I am. About 90% of the time.
And it's more than sex. I love to hold hands and hug and kiss. And I never think we do it enough. Even though we probably do. I always graze his arm/foot/shoulder/etc. when I pass him and always mindlessly finger his back if I'm behind him. I tell him "I love you" too many times a day. I am just too affectionate. And I know it drives him nuts, so you'd think I would quit it. But I don't. Why??!!

What is the matter with me? It goes beyond just being 23 years old and having more energy and yada yada. I need to call my doc and get a hormone workup. Other than Prozac, I don't think there is a pill that can be administered to calm me down. I just need to shut the Affectionate & Horny switch off in my body. HOW!?!

I have a good place to put that microphone.....


So I started with Guitar Hero and was finally able to say that I was starting to get kinda good. I was finally starting to feel confidant in my rock abilities. My son was no longer glaring at me with disdain. I was feelin' fine.

Then my man and I went to his friends house on Saturday night. Mostly to set off illegal fireworks. But we ended up playing Rock Band. What the fuck?! Can someone please explain why they would inflict more embarrassment on people? They've added drums AND vocal?!? That's just cruel and unusual punishment. And the worst part was his friends are GOOD. His one friend has beaten Guitar Hero and Rock Band on Expert and according to his girlfriend, "plays it all day every <expletive> day." So he has some serious skillz. His girlfriend wasn't bad either. On the guitar/bass or the drums. I sat there making fun of my man and laughing along, but secretly hating them all cuz they are more talented than I. And the worst? I'm pretty sure my man is gonna buy Rock Band. Even though his woman has been begging for WiiFit now for two friggin' months. (Have I gotten it yet? No. Nope. Nada! Will I? Yea, probably not.)

So fine. Whatever. My confidence shattered, ego bruised. Thought I was tough shit. I'm not. And scared to death cuz I know he will want me to play along with. Sucks. Sucks hard.

Holy Miss Foozie!


This past weekend was definitely one to remember. My man and I went to Chicago to visit my dad. We left my kid with his parents (they are absolute saints taking a 2 year old that isn't their biologically theirs) and we took off Friday afternoon and got there with very little traffic issues. He lives right off the Dan Ryan Expressway, which is a colossal highway of irritable Chicagoans and terrified tourists.
 
We went because he was moving this past weekend. He lived in Jeffereson Park and he moved to Albany Park. Which, if you are familiar with the Chicago area, know that the two areas are like 2 friggin miles apart. And he has a LOT of shit. As does my father's partner. (Hello! He's gay) They both had two entire households that they combined. And they have EXPENSIVE antiques and furniture that needed to be moved with care. So thank they high holy that they were smart enough to hire an actual antique moving company (to the tune of $2,000!!). But nothing was broke or damaged, and they both agreed it was worth the money.

Anyhow, all went smooth on moving day. My birthday was the 28th, and we had celebratory Korean alcohol. It was called Soju, and honest to God, it was like adult Kool-Aid. The kind where you keep drinking because you don't feel anything and then WHAM! You're drunk off your ass. Luckily, they had warned my man and I of this phenomenon and we knew not to take too many shots. It was fun. I never drink because I have a child. But damn, it tasted great!

And on Sunday, my man and I got to experience something that I don't think we'll ever forget. We got to go to the Chicago Gay and Lesbian Pride Parade. OMG. I can now say, I have lived. It was so much fun. Everybody was happy and joyous, and everyone was a little drunk. Okay, a lot drunk. But I had the most fun. I got a little pissed, though. Some of these men dressed as women were prettier than me! With better legs! Not to mention that a very cute young man wanted MY man. He was a blast though. Absolutley, the nicest guy. We met a very drunk woman who was a nanny with her nipple pierced. She was awesome. Gotta admit, wish she showed us her boobs. She kept talking about how great they are! We got to meet EXcalibur, the headliner of Steamworks, and Miss Floozy was so perfect!We got free condoms, lots of beads, some bracelets, lube, bumper stickers, and a "Spank Someone you Love" spank stick. (Which my man keeps using, totally out of the blue, scaring the ever-lovin' crap out of me).

Honestly, it was really nice that my man and I actually had the same day off together. We haven't had that since March. It was nice spending time with him that didn't include a baby. It'll be several more months before we have that again.

It was a great weekend filled with fun memories. And Soju. And lube. Maybe next year I can ride with Miss Floozy....

My Battle with Guitar Hero


My man plays video games. I, as a rule, don't. But he has a Wii and we made a compromise that I would work on my video gaming if he slept naked more. He has upheld his end, so I started holding up my end. I started off with WiiSports....then a little Mario and Sonic at the Olympics. Today I decided to try Guitar Hero: Legends of Rock. I never have been terribly coordinated, but I'm not totally inept. I was in band, for 8 years. I also played piano for 10 years. So I have musical ability. I strapped the WiiMote into the guitar and got myself all ready, thinking I was going to rock.

Good God. I had no idea that it actually took a modicum of skill to play that f-ing game! I was getting booed off stage almost immediately. It was so bad that I decided to stop the game and go to the tuitorials. Where I also sucked. If it was possible, they would have booed me then, too. I even slowed down the damn game, hoping it would help. It didn't. The guitar would screech and my two year old would shoot me a look like, "You done makin' fun of yourself? Cuz I got some serious Sesame Street to watch." I suppose that practice makes perfect, and if I kept at it, I would slowly get better. But I can't stand myself. And I can't take my kid's menacing stares at me. I was hoping to show off my talent in front of my man later tonight....but he'll boo me, too. And I know him, he wouldn't do the, "Aww baby, you aren't that bad, you were really good!" He'd laugh and point and would make up terrible nicknames. I am also surprised that my ego is as crushed as it is. 9 year old kids are beating this damn game on Expert level and I can't get through the practice levels on "SLOW". Makes me wanna smack all those little kids upside their heads. I will try again. This time with my son sound asleep. And I will not be showing off my skillz in front of my man any time soon.

I am not a rock god.

Not single and lesson learned



                                 WARNING: Contents of this entry are mushy, sappy,
                                                and quite frankly kinda boring...

Well, I learned not to EVER go through my man's phone again. After learning things I didn't want to learn (the content of the messages) I also learned a lot of other stuff. I am either going to trust my man and stay with him or I need to break up with him. And I definitely don't want to do that. I learned that my man may be a big huge gigantic flirt, but he loves me. We worked too hard too many years to finally become a couple for either one of us to cheat and screw that up. He also wouldn't make long term plans with me (hello vacay in Mexico next year) if he was cheating and wanted to break up. I learned to stop being paranoid and will <try> to stop being so analytical. I know I need more confidence and I need to understand that I deserve a good man and to stop sabotaging myself.

As much as I was hurt reading what was wrote and to know that the man I love could write things like that to another woman, I am not the least upset with him and am ssoo thankful we worked this out and he isn't as upset with me as he was.  I am so lucky to have him. He really is, in so many ways, absolutely perfect for me. He balances out a lot of my nuiances and quirks. He takes great care of me. He loves my kid. He works hard at his job and does his fair share of housework and chores. He puts up with my crazy ass family. But the most important thing is he's dependable and trustworthy. He's my best friend, and even though I'll never be his, I'd never trade him for anyone. I love him, I love him, I love him.

He and I really haven't had too many big fights, and we've known each other for over 4 years. I'm not sure why we don't fight a lot, but I'm glad. We have the daily irritations that come from trying to live with another person (and a 2 yr old) in 900 square feet, but nothing major. He's a saint for putting up with me since I'm not the easiest person to live with. I'm glad we made up and things are okay.....

.......god bless make-up sex........

I am so stupid (and am probably single)

Okay...so I did something earlier today that I am SO not proud of. I wish I hadn't. I wish I could take it back. I did it because I am stupid and paranoid. A paranoia that really isn't even warranted.    >I looked through my boyfriends' phone<     Okay, that's bad. Super bad. So bad that as soon as I touched his phone I felt bad and should have put it down.

I have been super paranoid lately.  Like I said, it really isn't even warranted. Just a few times where my man would get messages from people I don't know, sometimes at odd times, and that's all. And that isn't enough to warrant me looking through his phone. But nonetheless, I am stupid.

And the messages in the phone FREAKED me out! Most of them said 'lol' at the ends, but freaked me anyhow. I didn't read them all because I was crying so hard that I couldn't have read them even if I wanted to. Which I didn't. Honestly. And I didn't want to tell him I did it...mostly because I am smart enough to know not to get pissed about what I found. You can't get mad when you breech that trust barrier. I know that. But having cried so hard he must have been able to tell by my voice that I was upset. 

He came back for his phone and went on to work, and then called me. He ended up hanging up on me when I disclosed what I did, saying, "I thought you were different, bye." I am more okay with a man cheating on me than if he is uber-pissed...and he is majorly pissed. I deserve whatever happens to me. If he breaks up with me and moves out, I deserve it. If he cuts sex off for a month, I deserve it. If he actually starts fooling around with someone, I deserve it.

I can't imagine my life without Brandon. He really is the best thing in my life (besides my son) and I don't know why I am fucking this up so bad. I've never had a decent man before and maybe that's my problem. I don't have enough confidence in myself, so I am sabotaging my relationship. Who knows. I think I'm so used to men hurting me, and leaving me, and cheating, that I am not used to a man that isn't doing this to me. Why can't I just be thankful? Why do I over-analyze every goddamn thing? When did I turn into that woman that goes through her man's shit? I never do that! And why did I choose to finally do that to the one man in my life I didn't need to??! 

Anyone a psychiatrist???

I've been tagged


I've been tagged by my friend Jack for a 'Book Meme'. I have no idea what that means. This is what entails...

1. Pick up the nearest book to you.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Locate the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences on your blog and in so doing…
5. Tag people, and acknowledge who tagged me.

So here goes....from "Theirs Was the Kingdom",

Tybalt did a complicated sum once, and came up with a remarkable answer. According to him the average wage I pay, higher than anyone in the trade, or so I'm told, is twenty nine shillings a week, whereas the average weekly yield of each man in the network is three times that sum judged on annual turnover. Why can't more men understand that pinchpenny wages and brutish conditions defeat their own objects.

Ouch...that was boring as hell. I grew up in a house where we literally had hundreds of old books, mostly classics, some not, at my immediate disposal. And this book is supposedly a great book. That just happened to be a really boring part.

I tagged my friend Matt in Washington and my friend Danny in Michigan. So there goes...I would write about my day...but honestly, I didn't do anything. I did laundry and the dishes. There isn't anything new in my relationship. Or with my kid. God, now I'm boring myself...

**ms**

I'm outing myself!


No, I'm not coming out of the sexuality closet. I am very heterosexual. But I am outing myself in a different way. I am fan of certain things....sports....singers.....etc. And I am letting the world know.

I am <was> a closet NASCAR fan. Yes, it is true, I would gather at a friends house on Sunday afternoon with a bowl of guacamole and chips in hand and would watch 42 men drive around in a big damn circle. I adore Elliott Sadler. He's such a cutie and he seems extremely nice. Maybe not so smart....but who cares, he's hot. I, along with many others, do not like Jeff Gordon. But I am not a die hard fan. I don't know anything about Dale Earnhardt, his son, or his racing company. I can't tell you any stats and don't watch it regularly anymore. I never liked the "road" races they sometimes do and I didn't like the Busch series. I guess I just liked the cute guys and the prospect of one of them crashing.

I like that stupid Miley Fucking Cyrus song. The "See You Again" song. It sounds so much like the "I wear my sunglasses at night" song but I don't care. I like it. And my kid likes it- he'll dance to it and shake his booty. I hate her and her alter ego Hannah Monfreakingtana completely, but that damn song is so catchy.

I also hate to admit this....but I am a pro-wrestling fan. My boyfriend is a fan and it's starting to rub off. We watch it every night that it is on. It's frightening....I am actually remembering the names and outfits, the theme songs, who's fighting with who and why. I actually cared when The Undertaker lost to Edge and is now banished. It helps that most of these men are hot, built, and are one good sneeze away from being naked. But my man and I will actually discuss the fights, predict who'll win, and make fun of the wrestlers together. We both know it's not real and it's all rehearsed. It's fun to watch the drama. Fake drama, but drama nonetheless. I feel less trashy when I see all the actual die-hard fans in the arena holding their signs and wearing their mullets proudly.

So there it is. My secrets are out. Now sshhhh, don't tell nobody!

First Entry First Complaint!



Okay, so it's my first entry and I hate to complain, but I need to.  I guess I need to provide a little background info on me and my situation before I can complain and have it make sense. I am a 23 year old single mom of a 2 year old. I am a waitress at a family style restaurant. I do not get child support and am not happy about it. I do not get along with my mom, my dad is gay, and I regret about 2/3 of my life. With all that out of the way...

It is Father's Day, one of the restaurant's busiest days. And we have a new girl working. She was NOT waitressing, she was bussing tables. And we fired her due to incompetency. Ugh, it was horrible. How hard is it to pick up a plate and put it in a bustub? Seriously? I am taking orders, delivering food and drinks, ringing up people at the register and seating people at tables. I am setting up syrup plates and grabbing soups an coleslaws and dressings for salads and getting ketchups/mustards/hot sauces. I am pouring so much coffee that I am certain I will bleed coffee if I get cut. I'm the one that is dodging toddlers throwing toast at my head and having old craggy men grab my ass "accidently". Twice. So why the fuck can't she pick up a goddamn plate and take it 8 feet and put it in the tub? We served 3 people shy of 700 in 6 hours. We didn't have time for her whining. And subsequent crying. So we figured it'd be easier without her than it would have been WITH her. And it was. But what irritates me the MOST is that we still had to tip her out after they fired her!!

I guess I should mention that I do have a boyfriend. And he is wonderful enough that I don't always feel like a single mom. We live together and he takes excellent care of not only me but my son as well. He is an amazing man and I am lucky to have him. I'm not sure how long he'll keep me as a girlfriend, but if he will keep me, I will definitely keep him. Most importantly, not only does my son love and adore him, but he loves and adores my son. I think my son might be the only reason he's still with me.

I feel better and suppose I'm done bitching for now. Maybe not. Who knows?

**ms**
No Photo
Female - 23 years old
SOUTH HAVEN, MI
United States
Bookmark and Share