The differences


Four and a half years ago I met the man I will one day soon call my husband. We’re actively making plans to make the most important commitment two people can make to one another. Next October we’ll make it official in front of the people closest to us, and honestly, if I could do it today, I probably would. He is my everything, my reason for getting up every morning. Even if we have a bad day, we can always rely on the other to be there the next morning.

The same couldn’t be said for my first real relationship. Every time we would argue, he would threaten to break up with me. If we did break up (or take a “break,” as he liked to call it), I would always be the one begging him to come back, which usually consisted of 2-3 weeks of me bending over backwards to make him feel like I was committed to the relationship. I see the irony now, considering he was the one with massive commitment issues, but at the time, all I felt was that I was the one with problems, not him.

After that, I would walk on egg shells for a few months, only to have it blow up in my face when I expressed anything he considered to be “negative” feelings about our relationship. This happened so many times I’ve lost count of the number of times we broke up/got back together. Our mutual “friends” would almost always take his side, saying I was the one with the problem, that I was being too sensitive and needy, and that I needed to back off. Which was probably all true. I have a very bad habit of clinging tighter when I think someone is slipping away from me, but the fact that they saw nothing wrong with his emotional black mail and even ENCOURAGED it was the nail in the coffin as far as our friendships were concerned. Oh and their sleeping with him. That definitely didn’t help, but that is beside the point.

Its taken me all these years to finally figure out what the big difference between my two major relationships were. With Joe, I feel needed, like it would cause him physical, mental, and emotional pain to lose me. With my ex, I didn’t feel needed or appreciated. I was arm candy that could be disposed of if I got too difficult to deal with. After I found out he was gay, I finally realized that is exactly what I was. How could someone think he was gay if he had a girlfriend, right? His family never even suspected, not even his twin brother. When they found out it was as if the world had stopped turning. His suicide paled in comparison to finding out he was gay. It made me realize why he worked so hard to hide it from them, he knew he would lose everything if they knew.

But it still didn’t make what he did to me okay. He could have trusted me with the truth, and I probably would have helped him. Would I have been angry at being lied to? Absolutely. But I loved him, and I wanted what was best for him. If that couldn’t be me, then I would have helped him get to where he needed to be to be happy, even if that meant hiding who he was from his family. I deserved better. He deserved to be happy. Neither one of us acted honestly in our relationship, and it cost the world one of its best people.

I couldn’t have realized all this until I met Joe though. Before I was bitter. I felt wronged, and no amount of pointing out my failings in our relationship made me realize that I was partially at fault for the way it ended. Our friends and his family, as well as his actions were definitely the bulk of the problems, but I should have stood up for myself and walked away long before I actually did instead of begging him to take me back more times than I care to remember. I should have realized that he never loved me the way I loved him, and I was fighting a losing battle trying to keep him.

I can’t write this without adding that my ex helped me become the person I am today. I’m stronger. I realize that my feelings are valid, and its okay to feel the way I do. By making me feel worthless and unneeded, he helped me realize that I was worth something to a lot of people, and they needed me more than anything in this world. While I still have lingering issues from the way he treated me, 95% of the time I’m a confident, happy person that realizes her worth in this world, and I can only thank my ex for that.


I am the world’s worst blogger

I really am, but that’s okay, right? I hope so. Life has been, well, life. Busy between work and school, still working out the details of the wedding (we’ve found a place!), and making sure to find the balance between pleasing others and taking care of myself. After a whirlwind few weekends, I declared last weekend Joe and I only time. Not everyone was horribly pleased about it, but we needed the break. We went to the fair on Sunday, spent way too much money, came home, crashed for a few hours, then went to get ramen for dinner. With Joe’s new schedule we only have one weekend day off together, but he works so early that he’s home by 2pm on Saturday, so its not a complete waste of a day if we actually go out and do stuff.

Oh! I got a new computer! A brand new, only ever been owned by me computer! Since my mac died we’ve been living off hand me downs and borrowed computers, but I got my financial aid check a few weeks ago, so we got me a new computer and Joe a ps3 since he had to sell his a few months ago. They had some ridiculously good deals t Walmart for both, so we didn’t spend all that much. Since I only use the computer for school and blogging, we didn’t need the super mac daddy of computers.

Well, I have to get ready for work, so I will talk to everyone later!

Life and other adventures

Photo on 6-28-13 at 7.20 PM

I feel like every time I log on to blog, I lose all interest, so I put it off for weeks on end. Its not like I don’t have things to talk about. I have the wedding, school, the job hunt, my crazy family, and all the things that seem to come crashing down around you when you announce to your family that you’ve decided to marry the man of your dreams. There are so many societal rules when it comes to getting married that if I wasn’t my mom’s only girl I’d run off to the courthouse and just get it all over with.

But I’ve got those pesky little things called dreams. I’ve dreamed of my dress since I was a little girl, and whenever I pictured my wedding day, I was surrounded by my family and friends. And then lets add in the fact that my mom would be absolutely crushed if I were to get married without her there. So a wedding it is.

Part of me is excited, really excited. And then another part of me is dreading everything. I hate planning and organizing almost as much as I hate being the center of attention. I’mt not the most coordinated of people in the world, and I’m terrified of embarrassing myself in front of everyone. Adding a 20 pound dress and heels into the mix is definitely not going to help in that department.

But I know that if I don’t have the wedding I want, I will end up resenting myself and Joe because we settled. We took the easy way out when what I wanted was just out of reach. We’re being responsible and saving the money before we do anything, which means its going to take a bit longer to have what I want. I’ve waited four years, I don’t think a few more months is going to be a problem. We’re keeping the guest list small, so even if we do have a full reception, it won’t be that expensive.

I will not have a panic attack


Joe wants to sell our house and move. We’ve been here less than two years (It will be two years in mid-September), and the last time we moved, it was just SO STRESSFUL. Granted, things will be different. He only wants to move a few cities away from where we are now, so instead of a 5 hour car ride, we’re looking at a 30-40 minute drive. We won’t be staying in hotels, so we have time to find the right place. If we don’t sell this place, its no big deal. We’ll just wait for the right time and try again.

So why does he want to move? This place is HUGE for just two people, a dog, and a cat. We both work, I’m going to school, and he is planning on going back to school in the near future, so keeping this place clean has been a struggle, even with Joe not in school. Once he returns, it would be even MORE difficult. We’re pretty far away from all of the things we like to do. If Joe’s little brother has a health emergency (he’s a type 1 diabetic), we’re a solid 30-45 minutes away, and his other brother can’t always be relied on to get there in an emergency. The schools out here suck balls, so when we do have children, we would be moving anyways because the schools are so horrible. Since we only want two kids anyways, we don’t really need a gargantuan house like what we have now.

Also, if we can get enough money for this place, AND get a smaller place for less, we could possibly afford to get married, which is huge for me right now. We’ve been together for over four years now, I’ll be 30 in December, and lets face it, my uterus isn’t getting any younger either. Not to mention all the things we would need to do to this house to make it kid friendly. We have a dirt lot for a backyard, which is fine with Harley because she is a lazy bum who sleeps on the couch all day anyways, but kids need a place to play, and it would cost a small fortune to make our backyard livable. We’re looking at condos for the smaller place, many of which have parks, playgrounds, AND pools(you have no idea how much I want a pool), so we’re covered there. The school districts in the three places we are seriously considering are a million times better than what we have out here, and we would be closer not only to Joe’s family, but all of the things we really enjoy doing.

The only downside is, we would be pretty far away from where Joe is working now, but I would be a lot closer to a lot of the job opportunities I have been seeing. And the public transportation is so much better in these places then what I have to work with out here, so even if I did have to ride the bus (or light rail) to work, it would be that much easier to access. I’m just scared. The last time we moved we could fit everything we owned into our car. Now we have furniture, some of which we will probably have to sell. Not to mention the kitchen full of small appliances and the bigger appliances we would likely be bringing with us (at the very least our fridge, possible washer and dryer, definitely the TV). I have bad back problems, and Joe has his leg problems from the accident he was in a few years ago, so we would either have to hire movers or ask my dad and brothers to come help us, neither of which is a horribly appealing proposition. If my family came and helped, Joe would feel obligated to help, and he really shouldn’t be because of his legs. If we hired movers, that is an added expense on top of an already expensive situation, and I would’t trust them to handle my belongings with care.

But then there are other things to consider as well. A smaller place means lower utility bills. Our electric bill for last month was almost $400. Assuming we keep up the same usage but with a MUCH smaller place(our house is just over 2,000 sq. ft, we are looking at condos in the 1,000-1,300 sq. ft range), we could essentially cut our bill in half. The only downside to a lot of the places we are looking at is they are strictly electric appliances (no more gas stove!), which could fluctuate the bill slightly higher, but nothing compared to what we are dealing with now. And property taxes. Smaller place = cheaper property taxes. Most of the places, the estimates weren’t even over $1,000 for the whole year. Ours for this year? Close to $2,000. We have a living room we never use, two bedrooms that serve no useful purpose 95% of the time, and a list of things we “should” be doing to this place a mile long that we just don’t have the time and/or the money to fix.

But MOVING?!?!?! I’m scared that a lot of these places we won’t be able to move to because of Harley (she is a pit bull mix), there is the ever-dreaded HOA fee (which will more than likely be higher than what we are paying now, due to the increased amenities), and the fact that if we do move, this will be our THIRD move in 2 1/2 years. Poor Snickers is probably going to have heart failure when she sees a moving truck pull up, and there is just no telling how Harley is going to react to moving into a neighborhood that is by nature just more community oriented. We might have to actually TALK to our neighbors! The horror! We’re serious hermits, can you tell? In the almost two years we’ve been here, we’ve talked to maybe 2 of the neighbors for anything longer than 30 seconds. And the second one was because the battery on the car died and we needed a jump. The first was the neighbors nosy ass kids who sat there and talked to Joe and I while we were pulling weeds in the front yard.

And that’s another plus side to moving. Little to no yard maintenance! Most of the places have small patios that are mostly concrete, and public areas would be maintained by the HOA! So take off the $40 we were paying the gardener every 2-3 weeks to come and pull weeds out of our front yard and make sure the trees look alive. We’d save on our water bill as well since we’d have little to no vegetation we’d have to attempt to keep alive, so even if we have a higher HOA fee, we’d save enough in other areas to recoup the cost of the increased HOA fee. Just the $80/month on the gardener would be enough to cover it in most places. Add in the savings on the electric and water bills, and we might even be able to afford cable again! And all electric appliances would mean little to no gas bills. Granted, ours has only been about $40/month, but its still a savings.

I’m just very nervous. I detest moving, with a passion. But the reasons behind it are solid. We don’t need a place this big. By definition we can afford it, but we’ve been struggling, especially with me out of work. If we were able to get a place cheap enough, we could pay off the car and eliminate that payment altogether. That’s an extra $250/month we could put towards a million other things, like diapers for a baby. We’d be closer to Joe’s family, so when we do have kids, I could still work and our baby would be with family instead of some random stranger we know nothing about. With all the recent stories about nannies and babysitters doing unspeakable things to the kids they are supposed to be caring for, just the thought of it drives me to madness.

I guess the question is now, do we call the real estate agent?

You ever have one of those days?


Its been a bad week. The temp agency hasn’t been able to find me any work, and the one job they do have, I don’t qualify for (I live too far, apparently. WTF?), so I have been emailing my resume all over hell and back this morning. Goose eggs. Nothing. Not even an automated email to tell me they got it. Really? Maybe I need to switch computers, who knows.

I started my period on Monday, which most would consider good news. Since I have a BC implant that is supposed to make those go away however, I’m a little concerned, especially after some of the horror stories I have heard. I’ve had it in for just over two years now, and the SOB is supposed to be good for three years. I’m planning on getting it removed anyways, but this doesn’t help me freak out less. No way am I ready for a baby, and if this thing fails, there is nothing else stopping his little swimmers. NOTHING. And his dad didn’t have four kids for nothing.

And then I get a call. Apparently something went wrong with my drug test, and they need to speak with me about some “medication” they found. Except I haven’t gotten a single phone call from them, I had to find out through the temp agency, who can’t even place me on another assignment until they get a clean drug screen back. So I have to call like six different people to figure out what the hell this is all about. Turns out it was my headache meds. Really? Like, seriously? Gah.

Timeto go fill out more job applications. Yay! (sarcasm)


Me and Joe at the beach, taken by my best friend

Me and Joe at the beach, taken by my best friend

I should start off with an apology. Yesterday’s post turned into a woe is me, I hate my life rant that never should have seen the light of day. I’d like to say thank you to all the people who took the time to read it, I know it wasn’t easy to read.

The second thing I’d like to start with is a confession. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2007, shortly after my ex committed suicide. I’m not currently on any medication (no health insurance and no money to pay out of pocket), but I do have other coping mechanisms that don’t take care of the symptoms the way medication does, but do allow me to function on a somewhat consistent basis. I’ve just chosen not to use them over the last few weeks, and yesterday’s post was a culmination of that.

I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again, but I’ve sat down with Joe and gone over my concerns and my fears, and he is going to keep me accountable. I’m going to finish this post and then get off the computer for a little bit to clear my head and make some breakfast, and then I’ll be back to start the job hunt. Wish me luck?