They Say

Actions speak louder than words. Or do they?

 I’m a talker. I know that may be a surprise to some of you (*side eye*) but I am. I am the very definition of an extrovert, in that I have to pour out my feelings and thoughts and get opinions on said feelings/thoughts. I mean, I may not divulge 75% of what I’m actually thinking but I put out the gist of what I need.

This is true for me in relationships, too. I like to tell the person what I think of them and what they mean to me. I feel like it makes them feel wanted and there is ABSOLUTELY no gray area. I feel it. I say it. Yay loving feelings! But it gets a little difficult when the person doesn’t reciprocate.

I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before, but, my old boss had told me about this book called The Five Love Languages. If you haven’t checked it out, I suggest you do it. It makes total and complete sense and applies to any relationship; be it romantic or platonic. The gist of it is that there are five ways to express and feel love:

-Words of affirmation

-Acts of service

-Receiving gifts

-Quality time

-Physical touch

Typically people have two ways in which they understand love. I took the test and my big two are quality time and words of affirmation. It speaks for itself: spend time with me and tell me I’m pretty. Simple.

Or is it?

This is a two-way street. The way that I understand and give love may not be the same way in which you understand and express love and I have to take it upon myself to understand your way; which is undeniably hard and can be frustrating.

I guess what brings me to this really long introduction is that my current relationship is having this issue. I am a talker where he is not. He will literally talk about ANYTHING but feelings. Even if they aren’t feelings about me he still won’t talk about them. But, he will cook me a damn good breakfast and clean every inch of my kitchen when he’s done. He refuses to let me carry any of the grocery bags when we go to the store. He loves to hold my hand in public and private and lets me rest my feet on him when we’re just watching TV. So, it’s a give and take: I’m a talker and he is not. He’s a doer and I am not. But is there a point where things go sour because someone’s needs are not being met? Or is it a matter of trying harder and being more open?

We’re almost at the half-way point in our relationship and I’m feeling like I need to know where this is headed. I’m dating to find my partner in life. Is he? I HAVE NO IDEA!

Also, I tested the waters a week prior with the “love you”. That completely blew up in my face. (Side note- he told me he loved me in November, even if he was in a sleep daze. I made him repeat it and he did. Then he conveniently “forgot” the next morning that he said it. #wut)

SO, it was time to have the uncomfortable convo that I am the queen of having. I asked what he wants to do in life and he starts talking about his desired profession. I clarify that I want to know if he eventually wants to get married and have kids. He tells me that he hasn’t really thought about it (umm….what? you’re 25). So then I start my looooooooooooong winded, fidgety explanation of why I want to know and yadda yadda and I got nothing. In fact, I think he commented on the dinner at the restaurant. Not to be thwarted, I “laughed” and kept going and straight up asked him why he doesn’t talk about his feelings. “I just don’t,” he said. “The only person that ever knows my feelings is my dad and we usually walk into the house with a glow on and empty bottles in our hands”. Fucking. Great. “Actually, that’s why my last 2 or 3 exes haven’t worked out”. Double.Fucking.Great.

We finish dinner and head home and the mood is fine but I’m still feeling sassy. We get home and cuddle on the couch and I (sweetly) say that he needs to give me something. I went as far as to go “Are you feeling bad feelings?” *shakes his head ‘no’*. “Are you feeling good feelings?” *pauses, shrugs* “Are you feeling medium feelings?” *pauses, shrugs*, again. So, I’m mad at this point. This guy is an adult. He should use his words. WHY WON’T HE USE HIS WORDS?!?!? Then he says, “You always ask me for timelines. I don’t understand why you need to know the end for everything”. Fair statement, Boyfriend, but you don’t give me any indication of where we are….that is in the way that I understand it.

He gets ready to go to bed and I’m fired up. “If we’re done, just tell me we’re done. I’m an adult and I can handle it”, I say. He goes “What do you want from me?!?” Lemme tell ya, things went red. Are you kidding me?! ALL I EVER DO IS TELL YOU WHAT I WANT FROM YOU! Which is pretty much what I said to him too. Then I go in for the brutally honest kill, “Don’t you think if your last two or three girlfriends dumped you because of your non-communication that it’s a fucking problem that you need to fucking fix?!?!?!?”

Then the flashbacks of my very first, drama-filled relationship began.

I stares with me and completely shuts down. Gets up and starts getting dressed and packing. I start doing damage control and keeping him from leaving and blah blah blah. He still does not say a word, so, what do I do? I keep talking, haha.

“You’re being a child. It’s not practical for you to leave right now and you know that. You ask me what I want from you and I turn blue in face from telling you what I want from you. I’m a great fucking girlfriend (yeah, I did) and I bust my ass to make you happy. If you can’t see that then that’s your problem. All I’m asking you is to tell me what we’re doing. If you wanna call it quits, just tell me and we’ll high-five and call it a day. I’m not that selfish in keeping you in something you don’t want to be in. And if I hurt your feelings because of what I said, that’s because you force me to put words in YOUR mouth because you refuse to let any of YOURS out!”

Then the staring begins. After a few minutes, his expression softens and he says quietly, “I’m 25 years old. I don’t know what I want yet”. THANK YOU! That’s all I freaking needed.

We go to bed without really saying anything to each other and he’s not so touchy, cuddly, which stresses me out. The wheels start a turnin’ and I didn’t sleep much that night because I figure we’re done.

First thing in the morning, we get up and he tells me to sit on the couch and get comfy. He makes my coffee, cooks me an amazing breakfast and cleans everything up. Not to mention all the kisses and hugs in between.  I tell him that I’m sorry if I hurt his feelings the night before because I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to let him know how I felt.

And then something amazing happened.

“I know. I’m sorry I frustrate you. I’ll try to be better.”

Meeting of the minds/feelings, I tell ya.

So, is it that actions speak louder than words? Or vice versa? I don’t know, to be honest. I’d probably be writing a similar post if he didn’t hold my hand or hug me ever.

Oh the joy of relationships.

"Her" - SPOILERS!!

This morning I saw the film "Her" by Spike Jonze and it was fantastic.

If you've been living under a rock for the past few weeks, here is the trailer so you know what I'm talking about.

I have to say, the trailer didn't really light a fire under my ass to go see it. I was intrigued but more so on a "meh" level. I mean, it was about a guy who fell in love with his computer. But I am SO glad that I went to see it!

This movie was beautiful on so many different levels; the story, the cinematography, the acting, all of it was just gorgeous. And it was beyond just some guy falling in love with an operating system. It was a person falling in love with a person whom was without a body. It was warm, so warm. The color of the film was rich with reds and browns, almost like a really saturated Instragram was placed over the camera. In fact, everything about the film was a bit hipster-ish. I laughed to myself and thought, "Ugh. So the hipster look will become earnestly sincere and not ironic in the future". Oh yeah- this movie takes place slightly in the future". There were a plethora of mustaches and high-waisted, wool pants that just did NOT work with me. They were a bit long in the zipper.

The writing. Oh God, the writing. It was so honest and beautiful and everything resonated on so many levels, especially for those of us who have been in long distance relationships. The phrase, "what would you do if I were there with you right now" is one that is a conversation staple. In fact, every time Theodore and Samantha had that conversation, my heart nearly fell out of my chest and tears pooled in my eyes. I still have those conversations. It sucks. The worst/best line that was the first to bring me to tears, was when Theodore described his feelings about his divorce to Samantha. He says (and I'm slightly paraphrasing because I don't remember the line verbatim), "I feel like I've felt everything I'm supposed to feel and I can't feel it again". Oh my God, NAIL ON THE HEAD, SPIKE JONZE! I just...wow.

The main caveat in Theordore and Samantha's relationship was the fact that she was without a body; that she wasn't "real". But I mean, is it really so far fetched to have a relationship with someone who may or may not be actually "real"? What makes a person real? The physical being of a person? Or the thoughts and/or feelings? Sorry, I'm getting a bit existential, but, that's what this film kind of does to you. Samantha points out that they are both billions of years old since they are both made of the same matter that was the result of the explosion that created our planet. So, I mean, is Theordore only a person because of his skin? Or is Samantha a person because she can feel feelings?

Also, removing the physical aspects of relationships leaves room for knowing the person on a much deeper level. You really learn how to fall in love with who the person IS, rather than the physical person. In my years in the dating game, I've had two relationships where the majority of our time was spent apart. The BIG one, you all know about. The other happened when I was 16.

I met this guy, A, at the beach and I initially told him that I was 18 because he was 22. We hit it off really well and we exchanged telephone numbers and I told him the following week how old I was. He decided that he found me interesting and wanted to keep talking to me (he lived in NYC). We talked almost every day for an entire year and had gotten extremely close. It was romantic in a sense but nothing to an extreme level. We just really got to know who the other person was to his/her core. We met face-to-face at the beach again and it was really weird. It was hard to hear him talk and to look at him. I found myself looking away whenever he talked because that's how I had gotten to know him- a voice. Eventually we got more comfortable but after that weekend, we've never seen each other again. We kept in touch for years after that but still never saw each other. He probably is one of the few people on this Earth that knows me on such a deep level. We really did love each other but it was such a different love than I've ever felt before and I think a lot of it was because of the absence of the physical. I used to say the same thing about Chris but that's a whole different can of worms.

If you've gathered anything from my blog ramblings, I hope that it's that you need to go see this movie. It really is something special.

What's in a name?

“That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”.

Ugh. Whatever, Bill.

So, as I have hinted on some of my social media accounts as well as gushing like a 13 year old girl, I am dating someone. We’ve been seeing each other for two months now and I like to say it’s serious, in that neither one of us is seeing anyone else. Also, he drives up every weekend to see me. Future plans are made well in advance and it’s just assumed that that’s just the way it’s going to be. However, something curious happened over the weekend.

We spent the day doing some fun stuff around the city, which included some cocktails (because, Baltimore) and I was feeling the liquid courage. When we got home, we were sitting on the couch and here’s what happened…

Me: So, since I’m slightly intoxicated and can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth, can I be your girlfriend now?

M: *Big shit eating/patronizing grin* Awwww…..

Me: *stomaching falling out of butt* ha…well…that’s not really the reaction I was expecting *cue panic*

M: *puts hand on my face* You’re so beautiful…

Me: EW don’t compliment me now! *straight.up.dying.inside*

M: Haha oh my god stop!

Me: I’m sorry I brought it up. Just forget I said anything…

M: Well, what’s wrong with the way things are now?

Me: Nothing. I’m just used to defining things after some time, I’m not used to just ‘going with the flow’. I know that for all intents and purposes we are in a relationship, but, I mean, how am I supposed to introduce you to someone? ‘This is my FRIEND, M?’

M: Hmm…I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. But isn’t it kind of High School? Like, ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’

Me: I don’t think so. But nevermind.

So, in true ME fashion, I panicked the rest of the evening. Every now and then saying “Sorry if I made things weird now” which would receive a “Oh my God, stop” from M. And I mean, everything was normal. He was super cuddly and cooked me a fantastic breakfast the next morning. But, I’m a mess.

I don’t understand his reaction. Why the hesitation? We essentially ARE what define a relationship between a boyfriend and a girlfriend. Plus, all of his friends call me M’s girlfriend. Why can’t he? What’s the big deal?

But on the other side of the argument, what is the big deal that I need for him to call me his girlfriend? It’s just a word, right? Wrong. For me, the title carries a level of respect to the relationship. I’m not some girl that he hangs out with. I am someone whom he spends a decent amount of time with. I need that security that that word can guarantee. As a functioning and realistic person who understands that people are people and they’re going to do what they want to do, one would hope that both people in the relationship would respect the title and what that relationship means.

Again, people, I get it. I got a big ol’ FUCK YOU when I was titled a fiancé so I know girlfriend is not going to stop anything. Here’s my thing, though, I need to have the conversation so both parties have the chance to both come to mutual understanding that they are in a relationship that is to be only between them and that there has to be that respect. As it stands right now, he owes me nothing and vice versa. If he were to do something with someone else, I technically cannot be angry as we have not established that we are in a monogamous relationship, other than me casually asking a handful of weeks ago if he was seeing anyone else (which he isn’t).

This is my first “relationship” since all the bullshit happened. It’s terrifying. I find that I panic really easily about stupid stuff and my mind is constantly going. I worry that I say too much and that I will drive him away. I know that my life will not end if we stop seeing each other, but, I’ve grown to really like this kid and I don’t want to lose it. I have to stop myself if I mentally question if what he’s saying to me is the truth. I have to remind myself that I must not hold him responsible for someone else’s crime. I need to remind myself that I did not drive Chris to cheat and that not everyone will do that to me. I need to remember that not everyone thinks like me.

What I really need is to get the fuck out of my own head.

I know everything will work out either way and it’s really not the end of the world. All I can surmise is that I DETEST DATING!

Today I Hate Exercising

More than usual.

I make it very plain that I do NOT like to exercise. To exercise I need to be tricked into it, like, dancing. I will dance until my face melts off. But to set out to run on the treadmill or the elliptical? PSH. I get bored.

I get tired.

I get over it, RULL fast.

It's a regular mental Game of Thrones and there's ALL KINDS of "Red Wedding" going on in my brain.

I've started going to this class called Pop Physique. It's AHMAHZING (you're welcome, Wil). It's a mixture of pilates and ballet barre and it is probably one of the hardest classes I've taken. But we listen to house music and the workout is split into threes- arms/chest, legs/ass, abs. And in between each big workout are long stretch sessions so you feel really long after you leave. You can visit the website here.

Anyway. The reason for the title.

You know those days that are just...annoying? They're not bad but they're not particularly good, either. They're typically Mondays. Well, today, mes amis, I had one of those annoying days and it continued into my class. I wasn't really into going anyway, but, Fatty McFatterson has begun her slow return and that bitch needs to stay back (plus, there are way too many restaurants in this city for me to just order a salad).

The annoying bit starts even before I leave the apartment- I can't find the partner to the the freaking $10 sock I have to wear for this class. Oh, I should have mentioned, this class is the typical white girl-lulu lemon yoga pants-i have to wear fancy socks- type of class. Obviously this is the type of class I would like. Anyway, lost sock = annoying. Thanks, dryer.

I get to class and then it really starts. Here's just some of the thoughts going on in my head:

"ugh God i don't wanna be here"
"i have to do this....i don't want to but I have to...."
"...is she....really? REALLY?! THE PRIMA BALLERINA IS GONNA SIT NEXT TO ME?! TODAY?!!? OF ALL DAYS?! Is it too late to bail?"
"ugh. sure. you're all bendy. thanks for showing off. and do you really have to wear the ballet slippers? and the top knot is a bit much. whatever."
"[teacher] is gonna wear a scarf the whole time? sure you get to look cute while we sweat our balls off. i really want her cartier bracelet. doesn't she worry that it's gonna get messed up?"
"i'm a really hateful person. what's wrong with me? c'mon endorphins...."
"this is really hard"
"breathe. breathe. breathe. breathe. breatheohmygodbreathe. breatheholyjesusbreathe"
"she's really skinny. she kinda looks like my old roommate. huh."
"OH COME ON, BALLERINA!"
"i really should be focusing on what i'm doing..."
"oh fuck. legs."
"FUCK MY LEGS"
"i'm gonna puke. i'm gonna pukeFUCKMYLEGS"
"[teacher] hates me. oh she hates me. she totally knows i'm cheating. whatever."
"i'm done. can we be done?"
"i really need to stop staring at [the ballerina]. she probably knows i'm looking. how is she so bendy?! she probably goes to yoga all the time. i should go to yoga. no i shouldn't, i hate yoga"
"DAMMIT, JANE FONDA!"
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"
"ha. ballerina has no ass. at least i have an ass."
"HOLYFUCKINGSHITBALLSMYASSHURTSOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW"
"abs. abs. lets do this."
"omgggggggggggggggggggg this stretch feels so good."
"ya know...happy baby pose is really weird but this feels great. oh my hips....ow. ow. ow."
"yep. i'm still in a terrible mood."

I really did throw a lot of shade at Ms. Ballerina, lol. I'm not proud but, oh well.

As much as I hated working out today, I did it and I'm proud of myself. Let's just hope I keep it up this week.

Later, gators.

*tap tap* Is This Thing On?

Well, hello there. How goes it blog friend?

It's funny- blogging has gone the way of all my diaries growing up. I get it because I HAVE to have it, I write a couple entries and then I forget where I hide it until I really need it. But I have to say, I miss writing. I keep talking about how I'm going to write a book so I really need to get to work on what said book is going to be about.

Things are good. Busy, but good. Still trying to figure my life out, but, who isn't? Especially being in 20-something land. Speaking of, I celebrated my 27th birthday last month. HOLY BALLS. I. am. Twenty. Seven. Is this what it's supposed to feel like? I don't feel a day over 20 and I am nowhere near where I thought I'd be at this age. I still laugh when I think of how I had planned my life. The two options that I had given myself were 1. A successful actress, either on TV or in film. Possibly an owner of an Oscar and dripping in designers and men. 2. A successful actress who is married. EL OH EL, Life. EL OH EL.

About once a month I have a quarter-life crisis cathartic cry (ahhh the alliteration...) and go over where I'm at and what I want to do. But here's the kicker- I have no idea what I want to do. Or, I do, and I'm too afraid to say it out loud. I don't know if it's because I'm afraid if I say it out loud that I'll be disappointed or someone else will be disappointed. Or that I automatically talk myself out of it because it's not "doable" or "financially smart". I don't really know. And on top of that it doesn't help seeing all these articles about Gen Y-ers (or "GYPSYS" as one writer affectionately refers to us) about how we're entitled and have this inflated sense of self. What if I'm not as good as I think I am? What if I'm not as fabulous as I know I am? What if I need to stop having this idea for myself that I should be more? Fuck I hate the what ifs.

I don't know. I just want to mean something. I want it all to mean something. But how do I do that?

Wow. This post got all intense really fast, haha. Sorry! I do have some funny posts planned because, me and my life. So, until then mes amis....

Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend

Hi All! Long time no blog, eh?

Something huge happened recently. I'm talking 2 carats and a platinum setting huge.

My engagement ring finally sold!!!!!!

I know some of you may be wondering if I feel okay about it or feel unsure if you should be happy for me or sad. And honestly, I'm over the moon.

I don't mean to come off callous at all. That is the furthest from my intentions and I'm sure I'm going to catch some flack for it, but, whatever. I struggled with the decision to sell my ring because I loved it. It was so different and it was such a personal decision for Chris. But, after I found out about all the other stuff, it just hurt. It represented something that would never happen and I didn't want to hold on to something that I wasn't even sure if it meant what I thought. So, in October I took my ring to a huge Tacori dealer in Virginia. I felt that I would get my money's worth and this ring would go to someone who would love it as much as I did.

And ooooh girl was that trip a t-rip. The gentleman that I worked with at the jeweler was very nice and didn't ask why I was selling. So he took the ring and told me that he was going to dismantle it to weigh it and make all the inspections to make sure things were up to snuff. Well, he came back in and sat the carcass of my engagement ring on the table. I'm talking the thing was in two pieces- diamond separate from the setting. Head and body in pieces. I actually had to stifle a gasp just because it was so pretty and so broken. Ha, kinda ironic, huh? The gentleman, J, asked if I was okay and if I wanted to move forward, which I appreciated. But, I was solid in my decision. Even though it was hard to let it go.

Months passed and having that loose end undone was hard. I just wanted to be finished with everything and this last piece of the puzzle was keeping me from doing that. Finally, I got the email that it had sold. I was elated. I am elated.

I. am. done.

I can't explain to you what this means to me. Hell, I don't really know what it means yet.

All I know is, is that I'm free.

And I got my Loubs.

If you know anything about me, you know I love my shoes. And I love Louboutins more than any other shoe in this world. When I decided to sell my ring, I made a promise to myself that I would buy my first pair, for two reasons.

1. I've always wanted a pair
2. Chris would have wanted me to

I'd like that think that Chris is happy with my decision to do this for myself. Because- guilt be damned- I fucking deserve it. I always feel guilty saying it, but, it's true. I've had a year from hell and he left me a gift of sorts that can help me do things for myself. So, thank you Chris. I get to start my life over in a beautiful pair of shoes!

Damned If I do. Damned If I don't.

For realz, dudes. This shit is ridiculous. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Saturday was the anniversary of Chris' passing, what I've affectionally re-named "The Bad". And let me tell you, it's been pretty bad. All last week my feelings were up and down and I'm still stuck in more of the down side of things. Everyone's been really great and supportive and I apologize if I haven't been the nicest or the most positive.

I had a nice weekend. Friday was pretty rough- I lost it at work and had to go home early. But I got to hang out with my friend W and he always makes me feel better. We pretty much spent the weekend together, which was amazing. But, I feel like I somehow procrastinated my feelings. I had entertained the thought of going to Arlington to finally visit and say goodbye, but I couldn't fully commit to the idea. You're going to laugh when I tell you why.

All this time I've been saying how I just want to be done and move on, but, now that the time has come to be done and move on I feel like I don't want to. That I was sad to say goodbye. I mean, how do I feel now? What do I talk about? This whole year has just been about getting through and surviving. Well, I've survived- now what? How do I feel now? What do I feel now? What do I talk about on this blog? What do I talk about with people? I've had this crutch for the past year and now I feel like it's too hard to let go. It's like I'm letting go all over again.

But hadn't I let go? Didn't I let go when I decided to not let this whole thing hold me back?

I've always been the type of person that after a year anniversary passed of someone's death, I didn't really hold vigil for it anymore. I move past it. I mean, why continue to mourn and focus on the negative? Now I feel like I'm being such a hypocrite by feeling like I don't necessarily want to let go yet.

But seriously, what am I holding on to? Nothing. And yet, it feels like everything. Everything that I've been for this past year. I'm scared that I'm not allowed to feel sad anymore or have days when I'm kind of down in the dumps. Or I'm not allowed to silently resent the couples I see getting married. I have to be normal now and I don't know how to be.

I'm still so angry. I'm angry that I can never be that normal girl anymore. I'm angry that I have to figure everything out all over again. I'm angry that he's gone. I'm angry at what he's done. I'm just....I just hurt.

But at the same time, I don't hurt. I have moved on. I don't silently resent the couples. I'm already normal.

AHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO FUCKING FRUSTRATING!