I suppose I ought to end the year on a blog!

It's December 31st, 2009. It is the end of the year. To quote the narrator of (500) Days of Summer:

"Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin, and they end, with no lasting memories made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life."

This applies to whole years sometimes. I feel like this year was mostly unremarkable in my life. I had no great accomplishments nor made any huge improvements.
Butthole and I made it the whole year nearly bruise-less.I managed to keep my New Year's Resolution for the most part.I managed to let things go more often.I didn't gain another 10 lbs. I accepted that I don't have a lot of good friends and I probably never will.That's about it, really. I think that's pretty depressing and for that I'm happy to see 2009 go. I'm hoping 2010 brings more change.
For now I am planning to embrace the New Year with a new haircut, turquoise nail polish, Jewlove for a companion, and a new scene minus the most important person: Butthole. I miss him but I'm proud to say I've made it this far and haven't a. lost my mind or b. gotten fat. So woo-hoo! Point: Me.
As for my haircut, I have bangs again. Side-swept bangs...

I might cut them again so that they look like this:

That decision is yet to be made. Ideally I'll decide by tonight. I think my face might be too fat :P
Such is my life that at the end of the year all I can talk about is my hair. I'm still not sure what to make of that but for fear of ruining my night I will not think about it (to one more time keep my 2009 resolution).
As for 2010, I intend to continue on my self-improvement and add a goal to be more frugal and have more savings by the end of the year. I'm aiming for less tears and temper tantrums and more laughter and good humor at the face of ill situations. Cheers!

I was really lucky! I was!

I got to talk to Butthole! He called on Thursday night at around 1:30 AM...cursed time difference. I didn't care though, I was just happy to talk to him. Not so happy when he woke me up the second time at 8AM (hey! I get cranky when I'm tired). I got to talk to him on Christmas day too, and very briefly on Saturday. I'm not sure when I'll hear from him again but at least I've survived the past 2 weeks.
It's looking like I'll be spending NYE with Jewlove at Pickles house and possibly at Toolbag's place. Toolbag is not somebody I'd want to see but he's Jewlove's "friend" so we might have to stop by. Whatever, I guess... a party is a party.
Speaking of party guess what I did Saturday night? Oh yes. Overindulgence can be fun when not over done. I hadn't seen Pickles in like two years and she's just as funny as always. I met some new people and saw some people I hadn't seen in forever, it was fun. Plus considering the last places I've partied at (not including close friends) it was very refreshing to not be surrounded by complete idiots/pricks/tools/sluts. It seems like most of the guys that were there are usually good friends with girls so they weren't a bunch of creeps who made inappropriate comments. It was fun making friends with people who don't want to hit on you. :)
Besides that my bowling skills continue to be abysmal and I managed to make it through Christmas without putting on weight. Good times...

Upon hearing from Butthole.

I have yet to mention that I heard from Butthole! Indeed among the sea of excrement that the past few days has been I got an e-mail from him. The first one came Saturday night saying he hadn't been able to write because he'd been in Dubai. Gosh, he never tells me anything!
Anyway, sounds like he's having fun. He's been trying to get a game of beer pong going out there but apparently Egypt doesn't have hefty cups.
I really miss him and I can't wait to hear from him again. Maybe for Christmas if I'm really lucky.

The ñoqui scorned.

I told the tale of the ñoquis I slaved over over the course of two nights. How I made the dough and rolled it out... how I cut it and marked each ñoqui individually... how I froze them by the batch on cookie sheets before bagging them. How I had to maneuver like a circus acrobat every time I opened my freezer so that they wouldn’t fall out (they fell out anyway... all over the floor... twice.)
One of the reasons I made so much (other than because I’m a complete idiot) is because I wanted to give Phatty a bag. If someone loves ñoquis it’s Phatty. I kept putting off giving them to her because I wanted to give them to her on a day when she’d be going to straight home so that they wouldn’t defrost. Finally on Thursday I gave them to her. I was so happy... She wasn’t overwhelmingly appreciative of my magnanimous feat but I let it slide for she was unaware of my troubles.
The next day I went over to her house. I opened the refrigerator to get a glass of water and what do I find? I see it there on the bottom shelf a bag of what was once the delightful ñoquis I so diligently prepared. Sitting there helplessly: A a pathetic bag of mush. I say "Gasp! What means this!? Those were supposed to go in the freezer!" The ghastly answer? "Lol, yeah I gave them to BIL and he put them in the refrigerator." Now let me say this: What kind of damn idiot is given a bag of FROZEN ñoquis (or anything frozen, for that matter) and puts them in the refrigerator? Who? Do you know someone like that? Well kill them-lest they breed and populate the earth with their idiocy.
Now I know that I gave them a present and they are free to do whatever with it. If they ruined the ñoquis that's their problem, they are the ones that missed out... but still! I worked hard, damn it!
I got over that... sort of. But THEN BIL called me a few days later. He was going to make the ñoquis... "how do I cook them?" He asked... "Um... just like any other pasta: boil the water and throw them in... except throw them in individually, so they don't stick, and boil them until they float... about 10 minutes" Then he tells me all about how he's re-rolling them. He's "just rolling them again and cutting them and dumping them in the pot." The horror! Cutting them and dumping them in the pot! He has no idea how to handle ñoquis! Have I not made it painfully clear how much of a pain in the ass it is to mark each ñoqui individually? Let me clarify: You have to roll them the right thickness, then you cut them the right dimensions, and then you have to mark them just right on a fork, they can't stick to the fork and once marked you have to dent them just right. It's a freaking art form, one which I've mastered and here he is butchering my masterpieces after having already destroyed them! My heart was torn apart! My head was reeling! I was short of breath! I was sick to my stomach!
Oh but it got worse! He then asks "How do I serve these?" um... with sauce... and some cheese sprinkled on top. "Can I serve them with chili?"
...
...
...
...
... Chili? CHILI? CHILI? It was as if he'd asked me if I wanted ketchup on my steak! CHILI ON ÑOQUIS!? Whoever heard of such an offence? The horror! The abomination! The monstrosity! The offence! My head nearly blew up! I needed some smelling salts.
I've decided, however, that I'm going to put it out of my mind and pretend it never happened. It'll be easier on my nervous system.

Julie&Julia, cooking, and good timing.

Last week was very stressful. On Friday I was extremely down. T-Bitch flaked out on that ride he said he’d give me and I, even after all given past history, managed to be surprised. T-Bitch is not a good friend to me and I’ve known this for a while. Why I continue to delude myself into thinking he is, or might one day be, I don’t know. It’s the same way I continue to be shocked by my mom’s behavior. I think it’s a coping mechanism for me... as in I need to cope with the fact that I’m surrounded by shitty people and to do so I must completely block out their shitty tendencies and pretend they don’t exist. Then when they inevitably crop up I am shocked because my brain is looking the other way pretending not to see the oh so blatantly obvious. It may just be pure idiocy... who knows. It’s one of those things I won’t try to decipher because we all know what I’m going to do with all my heavy thinking... I’ll come up with a brilliant answer to all of my problems and then absolutely ignore it... Reflecting and disposing.
I wonder if that makes me like my mother. She claims to be aware of her faults though we all know she’s doing nothing to correct them. I like to think that’s not the case. Unlike her I don’t feel I should be martyred for my faults and short comings... I don’t want to be understood in all of my stupidity. If I choose to do nothing about my constant denial then I’ll be the one to deal with the repercussions when it all hits me in the face and I want to cry. I’m not going to let anyone see me cry over something that could have been avoided if only I’d wised up... ok, maybe Phatty... and only when it comes to mom, but that one is a toughie and Phatty is my sister, she’s seen me through everything and she understands.
Anyway... so I was stressed and such. I decided to man up and embrace my independence. I took the (oh so lame) local public transportation system to go to the store. I finished (almost) my Christmas shopping and yes... made yet another trip to Sally’s. I won’t go into THAT particular shopping experience but let’s just say I was there for over an hour and left about $50 poorer (even after my 15% off coupon)... it was very therapeutic. The next day I went grocery shopping with Phatty after going out to breakfast together with the children... I was home by 2 o’clock and somehow I still felt incredibly weighed down. It felt like the day should be over but there seemed to be so much left of it.
I took Spazzpup on a walk and upon arrival I got right into baking for my Christmas goody bags. I stuck to the simpler things this year... I’ve already spent enough time in the kitchen and not enough sleeping in the past month to get all crazy on little knick knacks for nearly strangers. I made cookies, Magic bars and English toffee bars. I made toffee for the first time! I am seriously all about expanding my culinary horizons this season; I really hope I can stay on this kick for a while.
Once I was done with that I made some marinara sauce. I’ve almost got it down perfectly. I’ve looked at countless recipes but I’ve decided I’m just going to make my own. It was definitely delicious but a bit too sweet... I’ll get it eventually. I also made some whole wheat pizza crust... that one still needs work but damn it if I’m not going to get it right one day!
In the midst of all this I forgot to mention I stopped by the video store and picked up a movie. I decided after all this stress I really just needed to shut off my brain for a little while. I rented Julie and Julia. It was ironic how good the timing was. First of all because of the theme at hand: I’ve been cooking like a wild soccer mom the day before the bake sale and these women were both cooking like... ehh... insert clever simile here. Oh and my name is Julia! But that’s just a silly coincidence. :P I absolutely loved the movie. It was exactly what I needed and I cannot explain how much better I felt after watching it. My brain really needed the break, for one, but I think any other movie wouldn't have also given me the warm fuzzy feeling I was left with. There was so much I loved about it: the cooking, the acting, the passion, the honesty, the romance, the reality, the growth. I was moved by the love between the couples and the loyalty and the reality. I mean SO. MUCH. LOVE. And it was so much more real that the usual chick-flick romance. I was literally swooning. The cooking was just beautiful and it truly captured the way I’ve been feeling lately with all of my experimentation, whether successful or not. I may not be boning ducks but I still feel very rewarded every time a new recipe turns out right.
I was also left feeling a lot lighter after watching Julie’s character learn so much about herself. Somehow my mind was clearer: I love my mom. I love myself. I have to live with myself every single day. I can’t continue getting upset over something I can’t change. I need to embrace the fact that things will never be perfect between us. I need to accept that. The world won’t end because of it, but my life will become much simpler.
I’m going to e-mail my mom and make plans with her for Christmas. I’m having dinner with Phatty on Christmas Eve but it’d be nice to have dinner with mom, too. I hope she’s ok with it. I’m not going to get into it with her again. I will give it another shot and if she gives me another unreasonable and dramatic response I’ll ignore it. At least I’ll know I’ll have tried. I won’t allow myself to loose sleep over it.

Stress and boots.

It's Thursday and I haven't heard from Butthole still. I know I didn't expect to hear from him (regardless of what he said which was "I'll write all the time" and I said "You'll write me 3 times and that's if I'm lucky") but it still makes me a little sad. I understand because umm... hello? Would YOU go to a different country and then sit in front of the computer the whole time? Yeah, didn't think so... still... Little ol' selfish me would like to hear from him.
Today has been a very stressful day: The whole thing with my mom is weighing in the pit of my stomach, Phatty's been texting me all day (Not stressful, it's just one more thing to do that is making everything else harder, but that's my fault), I'm not sure Little Brother's other gift will be here on time, the regular message board I frequent to escape reality has been in chaos since yesterday, the office has been a nightmare with patients, my boss being a bitch, and me doing all of the year's purging, I feel like my Christmas shopping is more incomplete than it really is... I'm kind of a wreck today, though no one knows it.
I asked T-Bitch to take me to the store tonight a couple of days ago. He said yes and to remind him but he hasn't replied to my text yet today. I think whether he takes me or not I'm not going to go to the gym. I feel like my head is going to blow up. I need to lay down.
On the other hand I got my boots yesterday :) I first ordered the black ones, of course, but after they went on sale I went ahead and bought the purple ones- Go daredevil Julia! ha! oh and if that's not enough I also bought them in MAGENTA! Oh yea! Who's hardcore now? Ha... I'm such a twat.
I need a big piece of chocolate. :(

Alone for Christmas.

Nope... not because Butthole is gone... because my mom finally lost her damn mind and I can't take it anymore.
I'm done. I can't keep doing this to myself. For years I've tried to deal with her and turn the other cheek and tolerate her because "she's my mother" after all. Well, I can't justify her behavior any more. She doesn't love me, she doesn't care about me and frankly, I've done nothing to deserve the treatment I get. All she thinks about is herself. She told me horrible things about my dad when my parents got divorced at the expense of my feelings and what I needed for her own satisfaction. She tells me terrible things about my little brother such as I won't even repeat here because the idea of him EVER hearing them tears me up.
It started last week. Phatty doesn't talk to her. I've covered that before. I invited mom to Phatty's recital because I said "eff it, I don't care what Phatty might want, mom would enjoy it" well mom's answer to my invitation was a dramatic "Well, am I allowed to go? Will I be getting dirty looks? Please, I just couldn't possibly bear it if I had to put up with that!" Let it be said that even after all mom has done to Phatty (including a horrible phone call to her that sent her into early labor with her second baby) she has NEVER given mom undeserved dirty looks. Here's where I went wrong: I could have said, "yes, of course you can go. In fact- it's a great idea! Go and shout and be merry!" but I broke and I couldn't take her nonsense and told her she was being ridiculous. I told her to quit acting like a drama queen and get over it. If she didn't want to get dirty looks that she shouldn't do the things that would provoke them. Well that did it.
That got me an angry e-mail about what a horrible daughter I am for not comforting her in her hour of need and how she's a human being that needs comfort and she wouldn't be going to the recital if not allowed to "be herself". To which I replied that unfortunately I am her daughter not her friend or confidant and that I'm not here to listen to her woes between her and my sister. That is not to say I don't listen to all the other stuff (work, boyfriends, friends, blablabla) but I will not be the ear that listens to how horrible my siblings are-not from my mother. So I got a very nice cup of "go fuck myself" and we didn't talk for a few days.
I thought I'd let it blow over as usual and go about my business and pretend nothing happened. Well I e-mailed her about Christmas dinner with a recipe I wanted to try and her reply was a brief "I haven't thought about it, I can't really handle thinking about it right now. Are you still coming? I haven't bothered thinking about it since all my children hate me." Cue eye-roll. Seeing as my e-mail clearly showed that I had planned on going and she still replied in this way I told her if she didn't want to do anything I'd host dinner for myself and Little Brother and be done with it.
This triggered another invitation to go fuck myself (in Spanish, but nonetheless). Yes, that would my OWN MOTHER telling me to go fuck myself. Lovely, right? I'm done and I told her so.
I guess I'll have to find new plans for Christmas. Butthole is gone, most of my other friends have functional or at least semi-functional families and will be doing, I'm sure, something on Christmas night. I'm hoping Phatty will be doing dinner at her house rather than her in-laws so maybe I can hang out with her. Otherwise I'll be home alone with my dog and probably a couple movies that will make me cry by the gallon.
I fucking hate this dysfunction.

The ñoqui endeavour

It's Sunday afternoon and I have nothing to do. There's 5 lbs of potatoes sitting on my counter waiting to be turned into ñoquis. I know this will take forever. It's 3 o'clock so I figure if I start now I'll be done by 10. I guess I'll do it. I really wanted to relax and lay around in my pajamas while I finished my book but I guess I can always do that next Sunday.
I peal and cut the potatoes (all 5 lbs) and throw them in the pot. Oh shoot... that's definitely not enough flour. I call mom to see if she has any. Now I have to walk over there to pick it up. I set the stove on low heat so they don't blow up while I'm gone. 40 min later I come back and turn the heat back up. Of course now I realize I could have turned it up a bit higher when I left as it does take a WHILE for the potatoes to cook. Damn.
6 o'clock and the potatoes are finally ready. I drain them, mash them, and get started. This being my second time I know to be more liberal when dumping the flour in the dough. I actually have it ready in about an hour with no problem. It will always need more flour so I rather add it as I roll it out. It's about 7:30 PM now and that is A LOT of dough. I haven't even eaten dinner yet. I get started- I'll stop around 8 to make dinner. I finally get to MAKE my dinner around 8:30 ish... I eat -oh and I shower because I don't want to go to bed with wet hair- and then I get back to it. I roll the dough, cut the ñoqui and mark each one- I'm actually getting to be really good at it. Mind you, these have to be frozen in individual trays otherwise they just freeze as one big ball of mush. I hardly have enough room in my freezer especially once the bag I'm putting them in starts to fill up: Fitting a long skinny cookie tray is certainly not the same as stuffing a gallon-sized Ziploc bag full of ñoquis in the freezer. I am at this point doing some pretty severe acrobatic combinations of open-shove-move-closethedoorreallyfastsonothingfallsout! At one point the door opened from the pressure and I found my kitchen floor littered with ñoquis. It's ok- no one saw. They go back in the bag and back in the freeze. Hey! They are frozen- it's not like anything stuck to them!
It's 11 o'clock and I'm only 2/3 of the way. Forget this, I'm tired and I want to go to sleep! I shove the dough in a Tupperware container and hope it makes it through the night in the refrigerator.
I spray the counter with cleaner and let it sit so that it softens all the pieces of dough that are stuck to it. I scrub the counter and wash the dishes and my hands. I lazily sweep the floor and vacuum the surrounding areas that are covered in flour.
Next time I'm doing 2 potatoes at a time- I swear!

Add 2 dozen cupcakes, 2 dozen muffins, subtract a Butthole, add some more baked goods...

Butthole is gone. Sad face. He came by Thursday night and we hung out til 1:30 AM when we both passed out. Well, we passed out earlier but that's when we woke up so he could leave. We talked on the phone the next night and he texted me up until he had to turn off his phone on the plane on Saturday. He is sooo sweet. That night I woke up in the middle of the night having nightmares about planes crashing- WTF?! He made it ok, though, he e-mailed me this morning. Of course I started work late today and missed him by an hour but it's ok, I'll live. I am going to miss him (already do)!
I've decided that I'm going to keep busy, busy, busy and force time to go by fast. T-Bitch will be seeing a lot of me whether he wants to or not, it's time for Partygirl (Temporary Roommate) and I to start hanging out again, Jewlove will be back in town Saturday which I am super excited about and I'm on a deadline with my Christmas shopping which ought to speed things up (nothing like a deadline to cut time in half).
Friday night after work I went into another massive bake-a-thon for a bake sale for Phatty's dance team. They are renovating the dance room and trying to raise funds. I made all new recipes (except for box brownies but those don't even count). I found a recipe for low-fat banana nut muffins made with no oil or butter that turned out ah-maaaaayyy-zing (like Kelly). I made chocolate cupcakes filled with peanut butter and covered with peanut butter fuge frosting (definitely not low-fat). I made Magic Cookie bars that I'm definitely going to be making again because they are quick, easy and delicious. I also made chewy chocolate drops with chocolate topping. IT all turned out great if I do say so myself.
The recital was great. Nephew performed for the first time and did great- he was so cute up there!
My Christmas shopping is almost done. I'm excited to give everyone their presents!

Deck the halls with my Butthole

Behold, the Christmas Tree!!

This weekend Butthole came over and he helped me put it up. We had such a good time. I actually had to rearrange my living room (which looks a lot better now, anyway). I did the rearranging all by myself including moving my enormous entertainment center and TV. I nearly threw out my back but it was definitely worth it, plus I was too impatient to wait anyway. Butthole is so sweet he didn't even make fun of me for playing Christmas Carols while we decorated. It was overall a good weekend. We ate brownies (home made by yours truly) and lounged around on the couch. We watched Four Christmases and made ñoquis with salsa blanca.
I am seriously, seriously, sad that I won't see him for the holidays (either one) but after this weekend I feel ok. I mean, I've never felt happier to be with him and just knowing that I get to miss him makes his being gone all the more bearable (yes, OH YES, I just said that. It's Christmas damn it! I'm allowed to be cheesy!).

Haggling and Christmas shopping.

I am pretty much blowing my savings on Christmas shopping. I probably shouldn't but I'm sorry, I can't turn down a good deal! I'm also kicking myself over the deals I'm coming across for stuff I've already purchased which is why the gloves are off! If I see a deal I'm taking it!
My proud haggling story:
I got myself some boots with the fur! Who's proud? You should be proud. They were on sale last week plus I had a coupon for 20% off. Sweet. I bought some for me and some for Phatty. Unfortunately the coupon had expired but thankfully I had written the code down for another discount of 15%. It's not 20% but hey, it's still a discount, right? So I get to work (my computer access) on Monday and I find there was ANOTHER 20% off coupon I could have used. *GRUMP*GRUMP*GRUMP* Oh well, you live and learn. They ship Monday. Friday comes along and the boots are in town (gotta love UPS package tracker). I get an e-mail: Said boots are now 50% off! WHAAAATTTT? I e-mail the company and ask if they'd be willing to adjust the price to the new sale price. I get an e-mail back the next day. YES! They'll adjust it! Awesome. Butthole was proud of me :)
Now comes the debate: after wearing the boots all weekend (it was freezing here!!!) do I love them enough to buy another pair on sale? I think I do. Mom says go for it. Butthole says yes then no. Phatty says sure if you want-it's your money. I decide- fine, I won't do it. I get in today and the company still has the boots on sale plus free shipping on ANY ORDER ... I'm going to have two more pairs of boots on Friday.
Other awesome deals: Receiving all those obnoxious e-mails from Kodak throughout the year payed off: Mom is getting a digital camera AND memory card for Christmas. Sweetness.
Complaints: If I had waited on ordering the boots I would have had free shipping on the first boots and Phatty's boots (though I wouldn't have had them last weekend). Oh well. Still a good deal.
Also, if I had waited to order Mom's calendar I could have either a. gotten Phatty one for free (that one REALLY bites!) or I could have gotten all of them for a 35% discount. *GRUMP*GRUMP*GRUMP* Oh well.
I seriously LOVE LOVE LOVE Christmas Shopping. Little Brother and Butthole are proving to be difficult this year but I'll get it handled.
I also can't wait to go shopping for more Christmas decorations on the 26Th. Oh man!

Baking and beauty products will be my demise

I am officially a recipe junkie. Right now it's only limited to baking due to the holiday but in truth I can never browse enough recipes. I have so many dang recipes printed out that the cabinet above the stove looks like a 13 year old's locker. My grocery list now includes a 3 ring binder and sheet protectors. I'm going to organize my recipes and make a Julia's Cookbook.
Today I found one for Christmas Cake. It looks like a cross between bread/cake/fruitcake. It looks yum-yum-ilicious. *Sigh* I have a problem. I haven't even tried the cupcake recipes I printed out last month! I'll do that next weekend, for sure. I also found a simple recipe for Seven Layer/Magic bars. Oh the endless possibilities. I've been going at it hard at the gym just to ward off the imminent weight gain.
Speaking of substance abuse... I can't get enough of beauty products! One time, in speaking about his parents interest in purchasing a new condo (that would be their 4th piece of property!), Butthole said "You know how I get a hard on for motorcycles? Well that's how my parents are about real estate." It could be said that beauty products rub my eruption buttons the right way. Hey! He's not the only one who knows how to be crass.
I spent $50 at Sally's last month and I haven't even bought my hair dye for later this month. Well, I actually have some (I mix my own color) but I'm low on my 3N.
Setting me loose at Sally Beauty Supply is like setting that little fat kid from Matilda loose in a candy store (ok, I'm like that in a candy store, too). I could look around for hours lusting after a moisturizing hair reconstructor, or a chip-resistant nail polish, or cuticle softener, or hair color protecting serum... I could go on and on and on and on- you get it. Not just Sally's, any drug store will do (though I only buy products at Sally's). I can't say I'm not guilty of wasting 20 minutes in front of the Herbal Essences display sniffing shampoos.
I have a list written out for things I'm going to go look into this month. One of the benefits of shopping at Sally's is my awesome discount card that pretty much pays for itself. Because of my shopping spree last month I get 15% off my purchase this month. Woo! And don't forget the $5 I get off every time I shop there. Suh-weet!
On said list I have a silk wrap I want to try on account of my hair being a hot mess. In the past 6 months I have managed to do more damage to my hair than I've ever done in 6 years of dying/flat ironing. Supposedly sleeping on silk lessens damage but silk pillow cases (affordable ones) are hard to come by so hopefully a wrap will do the trick.
I also found some sort of miraculous nail polish drying spray. The reviews on the site claim it works so hopefully it does.
I'm really itchy for a new hair dryer but I have one. It does work but I'd love a professional one. I was also eye balling a flat iron stand but that's just pure vanity because I don't actually need one.
There's a nail-restoring treatment that is supposed to be absolutely excellent (though pricey) that I might look into. I have decent nails but I'd like super strong ones. The stuff I use to strengthen them can't be used over nail polish and this treatment is actually a base/top coat that is supposed to work WHILE you wear it. I'm afraid to try it, though, because apparently in the first weeks of use it really tears up your nails supposedly "detoxing" your nails of their weak layers.
I'm going to stop there because otherwise I might move into hair. Last month I bought some new hair products that I'm going to try before looking into anything else. I got a Cholesterol reconstructor, a leave-in mist, and a color protecting serum.
I also bought some sweet ass nail polishes. My trusty-handy-dandy It's an Original! by Finger paints. It's dark purple and I LOOOOOVE it. Shades of Dark by Finger Paints which is supposed to be a dark dark shade of plum but I did my toes with it and it just looks black. I'm going to save it for the summer because I think bright light will bring out the color. I bought Like Butta by Ultra Pro which is bright yellow and Blue Blaze by Ultra Pro which I'm currently wearing. It's electric blue and I'm not too in love with it yet. I much prefer my nails in purple or red but blue is a nice change. The polish dried quickly but it needed a lot a lot of layers and it was very dull. Dullness was fixed with a clear top coat so no worries.
And please... don't even get me started on make-up... the lipstick! the eye-shadow! mascara!
Oh the addiction...
Sigh... I can be so, so, shallow.

"You still have me" *Swoon*

I got a chance to see Butthole Sunday night. For like a minute. Ok it was about an hour but it felt like less considering I hadn't seen him in two weeks. Things have been quite rough time-wise. His work load this semester seems to be massive compared to past semesters. Either that, or he used to sleep a lot less. :P
He's been so busy we hardly even get a chance to talk on the phone anymore. I called him at lunch today and that's probably the most I'll get to talk to him til I see him Friday. Plus his absence is taking a bit of a toll on me and my patience.
I got mad a him Monday night. I got all butt-hurt because he told me he'd be going to see "The Men who Stare at Goats" with Weirdo &Co for Weirdo's birthday. Why did that upset me? Because as soon as I saw that preview I told him I wanted to go see it and the night we were going to go we didn't because he said he didn't really want to see it. I said "Ok, no big deal" which it wasn't, really, but then he texts me Monday night saying he's going to go see it. "Oh... ok. You suck." He called and asked why and I said the above. He claimed he had never said he didn't want to see it which just pissed me off more. He very incredulously asked me if I was truly upset. I was. He didn't apologize which irked me a bit, but I do realize that he had nothing to apologize for other than to appease my insane huffiness. I definitely didn't ask him not to go because that would have been ridiculous but I was still annoyed. I'm over it now (ok... 99% over it, I really wanted to see that movie!!). It's not like it was his fault. It was Weirdo's birthday and it was HIS movie choice. It's not his fault I was in a different city and I couldn't go.
I guess it just gets to me when stuff like that happens and I can't participate. It's probably a bit selfish but I can't help it: It feels like on top of how little we get to see each other when something fun comes up we can't even do it together.
Last night we didn't get to talk, either. Not so much as a goodnight phone call. This morning when he text me I told him I missed him and how it feels like he's not even there anymore. Ok... I was feeling a bit dramatic this morning. HEY! I'm getting ready to not see him for a month, cut me some slack! He told me it was ok and that he just has a lot of work to do but that he's still mine. Goodness, I love him.
This weekend he's pretty much going to be studying non-stop so I guess any chance I hoped to have of him helping me with my Christmas tree is out of the question. It's the last time I'm going to see him for the rest of the year. I know I'll live. At least I'll get to see him. Even if he'll have his nose in a book the whole time.

Point Phatty.

Phatty was the first to notice my new holes! Woo! We were talking and suddenly she stopped and stared at me... "What is that...?" *cue Julia looking sheepish and looking around* "What?"
Tee hee. She said it was cool. Then she told the sad tale of her new job requiring her to take her nose ring out. I remember going with her to get it pierced like 5 years ago!! It's all good. She won't be at this job forever and she'll pierce it again.

Secret holes.

Get your mind out of the gutter!

Ch ch ch check it out!

I got my ears pierced again on Friday. Oh yea. No one knows yet... well, sort of. I told Little Brother because I was excited but he hardly counts. I'm going to wait it out and see who notices. I spent all of Friday with my mom and she didn't notice. Neither did my sister when she stopped by and Butthole didn't notice last night and I even had my hair up and in a pony tail! Turd :P Still... I'm enjoying my sweet little secret.

It was very much a "whim" situation. I woke up Friday morning, I took Spazzpup on a walk, and I went to the tattoo shop to pay Crankie a visit. While my industrial is still a bit sensitive it's healing well and looks good per her report. It turns out she doesn't do stud piercings on earlobes but I decided to go for it. It's a bigger gauge than my other two (16) but I figured it would look a bit different and if anything I can put a regular earring (20 gauge) in and the hole will shrink.

Compared to a cartilage piercing these were a breeze, though they are a bit sore so I'm definitely sleeping on my back -no exceptions- right now. It's all gravy, baby.

I might do more some time but for now I think this will be it.

Hace frio y estoy lejos de casa

In account of my talk of Argentinian traditions (food) I think I'll get a bit into that.
I moved here from Argentina when I was 12. I like it here, I do... but if I was to be totally honest I'd say I wish we had never left. The only thing that keeps me from thinking so is Butthole because I obviously wouldn't have met him if I hadn't moved.
The biggest problem is that I moved here at such a transitional time in my life that I never really got a chance to feel like I belonged. I was starting the troublesome teenage years as it was and the place we moved to well... I don't' know what it's like in the rest of the US but the kids in this town were really not open minded. The first year of school I got picked on A LOT. I spent most of the time crying in the councilor's office. I experienced everything from someone putting gum in my hair, to incriminating notes being passed around in my name (I almost got suspended for that), a girl pushing me and threatening to beat me up, and kids who claimed to be my friends turn on me and tell lies about me. It was rough. By the next year my exterior hardened and I became mean, cold, distant, and harsh with anyone that dared speak with me. I made friends but never close ones.
After that came my parents divorce. I was almost 14 (they told me a few weeks before my birthday, oh fun). As if I hadn't become tough enough this pushed me to become the ultimate bitch. There's no other way to put it. I was rude to everyone and made very few friends. Even the girl I called my best friend I wasn't open with. It was just bad. She moved the next year and I was pretty lost. I made new friends. Everyone who claimed to like my "toughness" eventually tired of my anti-social behavior and dropped me. Who could blame them? Then came ex-boyfriend.
At first everything was great. He actually helped me get rid of some of my mean streak but pointing out that I really wasn't benefiting from it like I thought. Eventually, though, all of HIS psychosis came out in the open and I wasn't so happy. He had so many issues that I could barely deal. He was so manipulative and I had become so co-dependent that I stayed with him for nearly 3 years. He was a jealous, judgemental, control freak and even though at first my social life expanded a bit eventually it stopped. I wasn't allowed to have a social life apart from him. My self-esteem was practically totalled.
Thus far of course none of these things include the added problems with my family. The fallout between my sister and brother, then between my parents and my brother, the divorce, my dad leaving, the wrecked relationship with my mom, the fallout with my sister, moving, my brother's arrest, moving again, etc. Some of these things made me meaner, the meanness led to other disasters such as the fall out with my sister.
Being with Butthole has helped me deal with a lot of my issues and I'm a lot better. I've learned to be a lot nicer. I really feel like I'm becoming a better person every day and I have Butthole to thank for that. Eventually my sister and I patched things up (because she's a bigger person than I am) and she's my best friend again. She helps me a lot too.
How does all of this relate to Argentina? I guess it doesn't. Not really. I'm sure obstacles would have been encountered there, too, because such is life. It makes me sad because all of these problems over the years have left me with scarce positive memories of the past 8 years. That's basically all of teenage-hood. I have few friends and given my present situation and the memories that people have of me I have few chances to make new friends. My life is at a stand-still.
I've gotten in touch with some of my childhood friends from Argentina and looking at pictures makes me nostalgic. Groups of girls I went to school with from the age of 5 to the age of 12 are still hanging out together. People here have friends they can say they've known since childhood. I can't. I can't relate to any stories from childhood and because of how closed off I was in high school I don't have any stories from then either. I've never managed to quite fit in here. I feel like if I went back I wouldn't fit in there either. Argentina still feels like home from here but I don't know that it would be if I went back.
I get really down about it sometimes. I really wish I had never left. I also wish I could go back and change mostly everything about the past 8 years if I couldn't change having moved here.

Better watch it.

I would like to start out by asking you to watch these two videos.
*CHICK POP MUSIC ALERT*





Alright. That being said I can now start my post. I will admit that as far as radio music goes I find both of the above songs tolerable. Tolerable in that I'm-in-the-car-we've-been-driving-for-six-hours-lets-dance-like-no body's-watching way. You know... that crap you'd never pay to listen to but it's fun when you are in your underwear baking brownies and need something to shake your butt to like a 13 year old girl. Errr... not that I've ever done that.
I would like point out the parallels both in the songs and the videos. Let's start with the videos:
Cheesy dance routine? Check.
Bad wigs? Check.
Outdated glasses? Check.
Slutty chicks? Check.
Pretty boys? Check.
Now the songs:
Some girl deems her crush's girlfriend unworthy of such a great catch and thinks the guy should open his eyes and see his girlfriend for the shrew that she is and see her (the singer) for her great potential to be the best girlfriend ever. Cue eye roll.
Let me start out by saying that if some skank was running around telling my boyfriend that he should dump me girlfrien' would get beat down so fast she wouldn't even have time to hang on to her weave. We are talking some serious "Giiiiiirrrrrllll hold mah earrings while I body slam this hoe" action. Seriously, ladies? How disrespectful. If you want the guy and he's already taken you either move on to the next fish or you sit your happy ass down and wait your sweet turn. Besides, anyone with an ounce of self-respect would tell you to get lost in your douchebaggery and play catch with a cactus. Heck, the time Pansy told me I should "find another guy" I, myself, had half a mind to body slam him. Who says stuff like that? Honestly...
Speaking of self-respect let's take a look at these gallant gentlemen. Taylor's crush is some push over little sissy who doesn't have enough balls to keep his girlfriend from flirting with other guys in front on him. Really, Taylor? That's the kind of guy you want? You want a guy you can't have not because he doesn't notice you, but because he's so whipped he can't even break up with his monster of a girlfriend? Damn, girl, I'm not saying you should find yourself a total a-hole of a guy but get a guy with some back-bone, no? I guess at least he's not cheating on HER which brings us to Avril's Prince Charming.
Um, hello? Am I the only one that noticed that this guy is emotionally cheating on his "so whatever" girlfriend? Plus Avril knows it and doesn't care which makes HER a skank, too! "I can see the way, I see the way you look at me And even when you look away I know you think of me"? Seriously? Like... really, really? Who wants a guy like that? You think that once you get him he won't start lusting after the next poofy haired, short-skirted, cleavage-displaying floozy that walks by? Dream on, girlfriend, it's not happening. Find a guy who isn't a complete jackass.
You want a good frustrated heart pining after the unreachable song? Here:

The Black Kids' cover of Sophie B. Hawkin's song. Brilliant. Just sayin'...
Oh and if you want to hear more greatness check out The Eels' cover of it. E is the man, as always.

Good girlfriend. He's a turd.

Butthole won't be home for Thanksgiving. He's, as usual, going out of state to spend time with his family. He feebly attempted to put his foot down and come see me before they left but the higher ups said no. Meanies. Another week without Butthole.
Last weekend he couldn't come either because of a prior commitment. The third Saturday of every month he has community service to attend to for one of the groups he's a member of. It's always been like that so we try to work around it. Last month I went up to College City. This month I couldn't manage it. I was really sad I wouldn't see him until he called me Friday. On Friday I was glad I couldn't see him because I wanted to dismember him.
He called me all excited saying "DUDE! My community service was cancelled for the year!" Basically that means "Hey, remember that thing that is the one only reason why I can't see you tonight? Well that thing is cancelled!" My obvious reaction was an excited and hopeful "Does that mean you are coming over tonight!?!?"
..."no"
CRASH! RUMBLE! TEAR! RIP! *other noise* That's the sound of my hopes being shattered into a gazillion painful pieces.
"Say what, now?"
"Well I have a lot of study and I have some work to do at the lab, and I have some homework to do plus all these pages to read. It's probably better if I say here."
..."SO WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU GET SO DAMN EXCITED THAT YOUR COMMUNITY SERVICE WAS CANCELLED? WHAT DO I CARE?"
Ugh. I was so angry. Mostly I was disappointed, but still. What kind of a-hole does that to someone? He was quite sheepish and apologized but that did not stop me from going into a half hour rant of all the things I'd like to do to him which included but were not limited to: a punch in the crotch/face, getting thrown in the river, burying him alive, or my reaching into his body and removing his very soul. What a nincompoop! My poor little heart was shattered :(
He felt sorry and he offered to come down anyway and leave the next day so he could take care of his lab stuff. As much as it pained me to do it and to say it again now I said no. It really wasn't the responsible thing to do. If he had started out by telling me that he couldn't come it would have been ok but nooooooo he had to get my hopes up first.
I wanted to say yes so bad. I wanted to tell him to forget about school and come see me RIGHT.NOW. but I couldn't do that. What kind of girlfriend, nay, what kind of person would I be if I put my own personal feelings before his very future. Ugh. I'm such a good girlfriend :( Damn me.
I intend to make the most of next weekend because that's the last time I'm gonna see him for the rest of the year :( :( :( He's gonna help me put up my Christmas tree. I'm afraid he still won't have much free time though because it'll be the weekend before the last week of school so he'll probably need to study. Ugh.
Hopefully his parents won't be too tough on us and lets us hang out even if he needs to study. I can read quietly while he studies, I promise!

And the winner is... (plus Argentinian tradition)

This weekend my baking extravaganza took place. I spent all weekend either at the grocery store or cooking/baking. I spent most of Saturday hanging out with mom which was fun. We cleaned out her garage some and looked through some boxes of Christmas decorations. I made out like a bandit with a bunch of lights and I'm excited about it. I have decided that I'm going all out for my tree this year... more on that some other time.
On to the cooking! I went to the grocery store and bought everything I needed for baking for pretty much the rest of the year so that I don't realize I'm missing something mid-recipe. I made ñoquis and salsa blanca (gnocchi and bechamel sauce, respectively) from scratch all by myself for the first time. I made them both right which was very exciting! Unfortunately I started making them too late (6PM) and mom and I didn't eat dinner til midnight (ooops...) but it was ok because they turned out great! Butthole was super jealous because ever since I introduced him to ñoquis at the Argentinian restaurant in College City he's fallen in love with them. Next time I'm going to start the prep earlier but I'm definitely going to do it again. They are really an Italian dish but they are a huge Argentinian tradition. I am quite eager to get more in touch with tradition even if I'm doing it on my own (neither one of my parents stuck to tradition at all).
For baked goods I made blondies, mint brownies, and peppermint brownies. The blondies were good but they turned out way too dry though I'm not sure if it was the recipe or if I screwed up. I'm definitely going to try them again. The mint brownies turned out be brownies with mint frosting and chocolate coating. The brownie was yucky and way too sweet in my opinion. Also, it was a very cakey brownie. Some testers liked it but regardless I'm not making them again. The frosting was too sweet but I might try it again with some slight changes. The peppermint brownies were BOMB. I liked them so much that I copied the recipe and took out the peppermint extract and from now on I will keep it was my permanent brownie recipe. No more box brownies!* They were topped with chocolate mint squares melted and crushed candy cane. Next time I'm going to skip the candy cane.
It still seems like the consensus was that I should make the Fudgy Fantasy bars for Thanksgiving. I'm still glad I tried the brownies because now I know of one more thing I'm adding to my gift baskets.
I also talked to my mom and I think we are also going to make tomates rellenos for dinner. Tomates rellenos is another Argentinian (delicious) staple. It's hollowed out tomatoes filled with a tuna/rice filling. They are way yummy. Another way for me to get in touch with my roots. I guess I figure connecting to my country of origin through food is the easiest at a distance. I've also looked up a recipe for lengua a la vinagreta (vinaigrette tongue). It's pretty simple but, again, time consuming. Butthole said eating cow tongue sounds gross but it's actually really good. I totally loved it as a kid.
About my tree... not all that interesting. It used to be that I liked a plain tree with uniform round bulbs in a few solid colors but I've decided that I want a more eclectic tree this year. I guess I'll expand on the subject once I put the tree up. I'll come bearing pictures.
All in all it was a great weekend even though I didn't get to see Butthole. I had a good time with my mom and I had fun baking and cooking.

*My box brownies are awesome but I never had the guts to try them from scratch. Well, I did it! I can do it. I am effing awesome. True story.

Why couldn't I get the awesome organization skills instead?

Last week I mentioned my awesome new sheets. What I failed to mention is that since I changed sheets I've been crazy itchy, particularly on my legs. I don't know what the deal is because the sheets are just cotton sheets and well... all my clothes are made of cotton, aren't they? So I've been thinking of all the different factors: weather (dryness + wind + cold= dry skin), I'm not wearing shorts as frequently because of the cold so maybe friction?, oh and I changed laundry detergent... or I thought I did.
Here comes a confession of my embarrassing idiocy:
I do laundry once a week. Living alone means it takes me 6 months or even longer to go through a whole bottle of laundry soap. I was getting low but I had another bottle up on my shelf (I tend to have extras of everything so I never run out in the middle of whatever I'm doing). I finished the one bottle and grabbed the new one. It was a smaller bottle which I thought was odd since I always buy the biggest one I can get. I noticed it had a "green," as in Eco-friendly, sticker so I figured it must have been the only size bottle they had. I did my laundry and saw the detergent was way runnier than the usual. I didn't think more of it until I talked to my mom.
In discussing "green" products she mentioned she had bought a new dish soap that was environmentally friendly but that she didn't like it. She said it had a weird consistency and she had to use way more than with the regular stuff. She asked me about my new detergent since she'd like to use a "green" laundry soap as well. I mentioned my qualms regarding my new detergent and she asked the brand. "Shout." "Like the stain remover?" "Yeah but it's laundry soap so I guess now they also make that."
The next day I got to thinking about it so I examined the bottle. The first word that jumped at me was "refill." Hmmm... How can I have laundry soap REFILL? Shout... stain remover... refill... for the squirt bottle... DING DING DING! I washed my clothes with stain remover not detergent... which probably left a residue on my fabrics. Swell.
This just goes to show how long it takes me to go through these items that I don't even know what I have on my shelves anymore. Regardless, I felt like an idiot.
I called my mom to tell her findings and she laughed an understanding laugh. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." "What?" :S It turns out after I left her house the day before she decided to check the label of the dish soap. In close inspection she found that she hadn't been using dish soap but dishWASHER soap. Doy!
Seriously, no joke. This was some sitcom business. Mother and daughter. I told her she had been greedy with the good genes and traits. She shared all of her neurotic/clumsy/insomniac/clueless ones but kept the useful ones. Damn her.
At least I didn't feel as alone in my idiocy.
I rewashed my sheets btw.

Unexcitement and uneventfulness.

Yesterday I became overwhelmingly aware of how depressing the holidays have become. Well that's not entirely true because I still love them. It's just that the holidays used to be a big family event for me and now they are not. Especially this year... and especially since Butthole will be gone through most of December and early January. Plus I'm feeling down because I won't see him for another 2 weeks.. and then I'll see him twice more and he'll be gone. Uggghhhh...
What is exciting is that I bought new sheets and pillows last weekend. They are lovely deep purple soft cotton sheets. Ideally I wanted some warm flannel sheets but it didn't work out. Still, I'm satisfied. Plus I got them at a huge discount. I also go super awesome fluffy pillows for a great price too. And obviously, like the pathetic person I am, I am thoroughly sad that it'll be two weeks before I can show them to Butthole. What.A.Loser.
My life is quite meaningless it seems. Blah.

Dessertmania!!!

Oh the Holidays... my favorite time of the year. Realistically speaking, anything before Christmas means very little to me. I didn't grow up celebrating Halloween and Thanksgiving is an American holiday which means nothing to me. I do love Christmas, though. I am such a sap for a Christmas tree and lights. The food, the presents (shopping, giving, and receiving!), the music, the atmosphere: I love it all!
Regardless of meaning we have adopted TG as a way for the family to get together and be fat. Don't ever expect to have anything traditional at my house but turkey. There is no stuffing, no cranberry sauce, no yams, and no pumpkin pie. That isn't to say we don't make a ton of delicious stuff. My mom makes turkey and her delicious Salsa de Champignon (mushroom gravy), oven potatoes, apple pie (both hers and my grandma's neither of which is anything like what you know apple pie to be), green bean casserole, mashed potatoes and pure amarillo (which is mashed sweet potatoes, I think). There's always a bunch more.
As the non-sides I'm making deviled eggs and my mom will make paté. I'm also in charge of the main dessert. Oh yes, let the fun begin.
I love, love, love, love to bake. And I'm damn good at it. :P Every year I bake a bunch of stuff and give them as presents to family and friends. I try to make something new every year which means I bake A LOT. I've gotta make sure everything is good before I give it out so I test out a lot of stuff.
Last weekend I made Fudgy Fantasy Bars. Four delicious chocolaty layers: Doughy chocolate cookie with nuts and coconut, chocolate ganache, moussey chocolate cream cheese, and more chocolate ganache. Freaking heavenly. That's a contender for TG dessert. I'm also considering chocolate cake layered with chocolate ganache topped with chocolate whipped cream. Or pie... chocolate pie... French Silk pie... ... ...
Oh sorry! I got lost in my delicious thoughts. Moving on!
This weekend I'm going to be trying out a couple of others: Peppermint/mint brownies, blondies with chocolate chips, and I'm not sure what else. I have a lot of recipes to look through.
For holiday gifts I'm going to venturing out into the cupcake world. I've already decided I will master the Peanut Butter Surprise cupcakes for sure. I'm going to be trying my luck with caramel frosting and REAL DEAL dulce de leche (brought to you from Argentina, with love). To avoid getting fat I'll be recruiting taste testers (i.e. family, friends, and coworkers).
In case you didn't pick up on it I have a sweet spot for chocolate. If it gets to be too much I'll be looking into some fruity desserts but I don't foresee that happening. I would love to find a good recipe for some strawberry filling, though. The jelly kind not the creamy kind.
I will report my findings next week. I think I ought to put together a cookbook already. I'm always printing recipes and throwing them all in a shelf. They are all crumpled up and stained with food. Julia, the organizer. HA.
*note to self: Step it up at the gym or you'll regret it later.

I can't wait til you and your boyfriend break up.

I have actually been having some deep thoughts but seeing as the past two posts have been rather depressing I'm going with something a bit more light-hearted.
As I've made it clear one of the few places where I interact with human beings on a casual basis is the gym. I don't go to socialize but I do make light conversation when people engage me. I've met a few interesting people at the gym. There's Happy, who confided in me about the time his two older kids stuck his baby in the drier (seriously), and Dancing Mexican who always cracks me up when I look up because he's, well, dancing. There's the few charismatic old ladies, the out-of-shape who are trying to get in shape and then there's the guys who hit on me. Ha.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I hate being that girl who thinks she's so cool and so hot and that all the guys hit on her. It's not like it happens often and I am not that girl, but I am A girl and guys hit on girls so from time to time I'm able to tell the story about the way-too-forward guy who tried to strike up a conversation. When I tell the story I always feel like I sound like one of those girls.
The guys aren't all pigs, they aren't all obscenely forward, but no matter what, I hate getting hit on ESPECIALLY since I have a boyfriend. Ugh... it's so awkward. I'm always nice to them. I have no reason to be rude, but I don't like to assume that they want to get in my pants so I don't introduce myself as "Julia and I have a boyfriend." However, since I don't do that right off the bat, eventually I'm forced to say it when they allude to their interest in me. If I can bring it casually into the conversation I will: "What did you do this weekend?" "I hung out with my boyfriend." But if the chance doesn't come up then I find myself awkwardly staring at the floor when they say "So... what are you doing this weekend?" Or some such thing.
The other problem is that I never know whether to tell Butthole or not. If I tell him then I feel like he thinks I'm trying to make him jealous. If I don't tell him then I feel like I'm being dishonest which is unreasonable as I'm not doing anything wrong. I do tell him about the guys I feel are inappropriate or make me uncomfortable... like Pansy.
Ugh... Pansy. I finally got him off my back just recently. He engaged me in conversation one day a few months ago. Everything was ok at first. We had some common ground since we are both foreign. We made jokes about our experiences interacting with Americans and learning English when we first moved out here. It was all pretty innocent... then one day he told me how beautiful he thought I was. Umm... ok... that's fine. It's just a compliment: I smiled, I said thanks, and I moved on. That should have been the end of that since he already knew I had a boyfriend but then it didn't stop. Suddenly he was calling me beautiful, not like a one time compliment thing but as a nickname. That made me uncomfortable. I had already made it clear that we could be friends and nothing else. He claimed to be ok with it but umm... sorry, none of my friends, guys or girls, refer to me as "Beautiful." You know who on occasion calls me that? MY BOYFRIEND, that's who. Because that's the kind of nickname a boyfriend gives. I let it go at first and just sort of threw the "friend" word around so he'd get the message. Then one day I was talking about Butthole and the fact that I missed him during the week and he made some comment about how I should find a boyfriend in town. Umm... how about no? Sorry, I don't want A boyfriend I want Butthole. He then said "Well, if you are ever single let me know." Yeah, as if. "Don't hold your breath," I told him. I thought I was clear enough but he didn't get the memo. You see, when we first started talking and he seemed normal we exchanged phone numbers, after all I'm always open to make new FRIENDS. He started calling randomly just to talk (much like a boyfriend does), he'd text me good morning and good night and check up on me through out the day. I'm sorry, who are you again? He kept calling me "beautiful" and asking me to hang out at odd hours (No, dude, I'm not inviting you to hang out at my house at 9 o clock at night!) Eventually I told him that I found his behavior inappropriate and I didn't think being "friends" would work for me. Just because he said he wanted to be friends didn't mean that that's what his behavior reflected and I wasn't comfortable with talking to him. He backed off for a while but eventually started talking to me. A simple bout of ignoring his calls and texts did most of the trick but what I think really did it was when he saw me check my phone, roll my eyes, and ignore his text. Oh yeah, because the weirdo would text me while I was at the gym and watch my reaction or something, how creepy is that? Oh, and I call him Pansy because the little whiner would start most conversations with "are you mad at me?" UGH! "No, dude, I'm not mad at you, but since you take my friendliness as some sort of creepy sign that I want to marry you and have your babies I have to give you the cold shoulder and keep my answers short and un-engaging!" I always told Butthole about Pansy. I know he didn't like hearing about it but not telling him about it made me uncomfortable.
The other guy is Creepy. He isn't actually creepy like Pansy. Creepy behaves like a creep but he does it intentionally and for fun, unlike Pansy who was creepy by nature and was so stupid he didn't realize it. Creepy is fairly innocent and creepily forward. He's the one that delivered the title line. He thinks I'm hott and point blank asked me if I was single. When I said no he gave me the dramatic broken-hearted speech. He is so blatantly creepy that I know he's just joking. "Oh man, you are so cool, your boyfriend is one lucky guy" "Nope, I'm the lucky one ;)" And he does uber creepy things like pretend to sniff me when I'm all sweaty on the treadmill. He's simply too creepy to be taken seriously. I can handle that. As long as my relationship isn't disrespected or insulted hit on me all you want but I'm still going to tell you to dream on. Which, by the way, Creepy will do as he so creepily told me. "A guy can dream" he said. Meh... he's better off asking Santa for a pony or world peace but whatever... if his creepy fantasy makes him happy who am I to deny his delusion? Which brings me to a realization. It's not the getting hit on that's awkward, is the having to tell them to back off that makes me uncomfortable. As long as the guy backs off then it's fine.
One more. Now this one (which kind of prompted this post) I'm not sure sounds as a "hit on" story as I'm not sure he was hitting on me. I haven't interacted with him enough to give him a name but let's go with... Droopy. I was working out my thighs. You know, on this awkward-ass machine:

OF COURSE. Pretty much the most uncomfortable time to talk to someone. "Hi I'm Julia, and that's my crotch!" I digress... So he came up to me and asked if I spoke Spanish (I think by now they all know I do but they all still ask). He told me that he couldn't stop admiring my beauty and that I'm a very beautiful woman. Lol. I just sort of sat there with my legs basically on stir-ups giving him an uncomfortable smile and saying thanks. The funniest part is that I'm currently nursing the most heinous pimple on my chin right now, plus yesterday I didn't feel like shaving my arm pits (TMI, I guess) so I wore a t-shirt. Oh, and you know that t-shirt in the back of your closet that's all stretched out? Don't deny it's there. You know the one. It has massive pit stains that basically thinned the fabric to partial non-existence? That's the one. Yeah, I was wearing that t-shirt. Ha. Bless his heart.
I won't deny the shallow part of me blushed a bit and felt flattered but still... it was so funny. Like I said, not all guys are creeps. I'm sure Droopy meant nothing other than "hey I think you're pretty" kind of like an old person says it but you know... he's not an old guy so it comes off different.
I hate telling these stories because I don't like people to think that I have a big head over it. In all reality you've gotta admit: they are good stories! I like to share because of the humor but it still seems so cocky of me.
I think it bears repetition, though: this does NOT happen often. Seriously. Take into consideration that I'm telling all of my "I got hit on" stories from the whole year so it's really not a daily thing. It isn't even a monthly thing. I stand by "they are good stories".
Guys can be very funny.

Sometimes it's not about understanding.

UGH! AH! DAMN IT! ARGH! Yes... it came up... the problem with my mom came up in conversation with Butthole. I knew better but I was hanging out with my little brother and I wanted to know how he felt. Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough to wait til we were alone so I ended up proving what I already knew would happen.
It is so damn frustrating when I talk to him about my family problems. He can be such a disrespectful ass! It's my fault for bringing it up. I know he doesn't understand, but I still wish he could acknowledge the difference in our family lives and let them go. Why does he have to state he doesn't understand? I already know! Why does he have to give me that infuriating "you are overreacting" tone? I AM NOT OVERREACTING, ASSHOLE! I know he doesn't understand. I know he doesn't know what it's like. I know his family is nothing like mine. Why the hell can't he accept that? It hurts so bad that he can't respect that.
My family problems hurt me and the fact that he cracks jokes when I'm talking about them makes me sad and angry. I don't need him to understand what it's like to deal with the things I deal with. I just need him to realize that, although he doesn't understand, my feelings are valid.

Bad daughter (but I don't care)

Last night my mom "invited" me to have dinner at her house and hang out with her. Initially she "invited" me on Tuesday but she said it'd be too late by the time I'd be free. You see, I have a routine: Work, gym, walk Spazzpup, shower, dinner. I don't interrupt that routine anymore. The only person worth disrupting my routine is Butthole. Mostly because he's the only person respectful of my time. So, no problem that she didn't want to do it because it was late, I can understand that. I said that we could do it on Wednesday since I get off early and she gave me a vague answer of "well... If I don't make other plans..." See why I don't alter my time for her? She didn't really want to make plans with me if she had something better to do. I am her daughter. Nothing should be better than hanging out with her kid after not seeing her for weeks.
I'll admit I have a rough relationship with my mother. Regardless of how much we fight I still love her and like to spend time with her. I have long ago learned that as long as I keep it superficial we get along well. I don't go to her with my real problems because I no longer care for her opinion but it's still fun to hang out with her and cover the mundane topics. I haven't really gotten a chance to do that in weeks (or months?) since she's been hanging out with her bed buddy (not friend, not boyfriend? It horrifies Butthole but hey...).
Last night I was supposed to take care of my usual routine but since I got off early my routine was over by 7 as opposed to 9 which left ample time to hang out. Mind you, I normally use this time to clean my house which counts as part of my weekly routine but I thought I'd rearrange so we could spend time together. At any rate, she was supposed to pick me up when I called her. Before I got to do that she called asking if it was ok if Bed Buddy joined us for dinner. Well, it wasn't ok. I should have just cancelled but I thought I'd go ahead and try to be flexible.
When I called her to pick me up she said, after MUCH discussion with Bed Buddy while I was on the phone, that she'd be over in 10. She took 20 minutess. It may seem petty but after 20 years of dealing with her lack of punctuality 10 minutes really grates the nerves. Plus I must mention the reason she took longer was because she was busy with Bed Buddy. I should also mention that a few weeks ago she asked me to help her dye her hair. When I asked her for an extra 15 minutes to eat some dinner after the gym she freaked out and screamed at me about how she's willing to drop everything for everyone and no one is ever willing to do anything for her. I'll let you make of that what you will.
Now the dinner I was suppose to enjoy with her and my little brother was to be intruded by Bed Buddy. That meant that there certainly wouldn't be any sitting around on the couch while I painted my toe nails and we chit chatted like we used to. Not only that, but dinner had to be altered because of him, plus we ended up waiting on him with her making cute little jokes about "THE COOK IS GETTING MAD AND IT'S NOT ME" yeah... well go fuck yourself... the cook is mad because you are being a selfish bitch.
I feel like I may be being a little petty... but I'm not. My mom is selfish. Last week I had to point out to her that maybe the reason Little Brother wasn't so happy was because she decided they would move without talking to him. Or that she has brought Bed Buddy into his life expecting him to be totally ok with it and not so much as a word to him. What kind of mother overlooks something like that?
Now, I am happy for her and her (non?)relationship with Bed Buddy. I think it's great that she's socializing and getting out of the house and being happy. But I am not happy that she seems to have resigned her duties as a mother. Mind you, it's not like she ever performed them very dutifully but now she's really thrown them out the window.
She invited him to Thanksgiving dinner and I definitely don't mind. I expected it and thought it was a great idea. What I'm not happy about is the fact that in some world he thought it appropriate to invite STRANGERS to OUR family dinner. This is the first Thanksgiving for which he'll join us and he seems to think it's ok that he invited someone else. Not only do I find that offensive on his part but I am tremendously pissed off that my mom hasn't shown him where his place is. He is her friend, for lack of a better word, and that's great. She has a good relationship with him and, really, that's great but he is still a stranger to my brother and me. He is no one to us and neither Little Brother nor I have welcomed him into the family so I think there is some intense slowing down he needs to do.
This whole thing is getting to me. I know my crappy relationship with her bugs me but I didn't realize how much.
Last night was basically a disaster. This morning she e-mailed me with some crap about "Where you mad Bed Buddy was there? What was your opinion of last night?" I told her I had no opinion which is quite obviously a lie. The truth is I have no inclination of having this conversation with her. Why? Because it won't change anything. She'll pout, she'll cry, she'll try to make me feel bad and nothing will change. Why go through that?
My mom never wanted to be a mother. I am not ok with that but I have learned to live with it. I am never going to say this to her because a. She'll deny it and b. I have nothing to gain. I've said it before that Butthole's mom loves him more than my mom loves me. I think the day I realized that was when I came to terms with it. She never wanted us and that's why it's always been so hard for her to be a good mom. It's the reason why her hatred of my dad was more powerful than her love for her kids.
It's really sad to realize neither of your parents really want you. I think my dad loved us before he left... he was a good dad when he was around... at least that's what I remember. He did leave, though, and I can only believe that he didn't do that out of love for us. If he DID love us once that love was fleeting... and it left with ease. It was disposable just like his kids.
My mom... she likes being a martyr, she always has, so she stayed. She made such a huge sacrifice for us. She tells herself she made those sacrifices out of love, but that's not true. She sacrificed so she could say she did. She loves the whole "Woe is me, look at all I've done for you."
I remember one time I had a talk with Butthole's sister about abortion. She is violently pro-life. She was so horrified at my being pro-choice. She was nearly in tears which I did feel bad about, but frankly I can't help it. I told her that I'd rather someone get an abortion than bring an unwanted child into the world. At that time I didn't realize I, myself, was unwanted. I knew it, but not consciously.
Am I saying I wish I hadn't been born? Yes and no. No, because I am not going to go kill myself. I am here, I enjoy my life and, though this is a large and painful obstacle, I will overcome it and make something better because of it. On the other hand, I am saying yes because if I had never been born then I wouldn't have to live with this weight on my head. I wouldn't be living, period. It may seem dramatic to someone who doesn't know what it's like to be unwanted and maybe it is. But that's how it feels.
I know my mom loves me. I am not saying she doesn't. But I think she loves more out of duty than true feelings. I think she'd be happier without us. I think we are more of a burden in her life than a blessing.
This all really sucks. And it sucks more because I have no one to talk to about it.

Wife AND mother?

Remember the bit about my fear of marriage? I learned something yesterday. I came across the question "did you get married to be a wife or to be a mother?" Obviously I didn't become either because I'm not married, but it did lead me to think of a few things. I still don't have any conclusive thoughts but I did learn a few things about my feelings.
I want to be a wife. Not today. God, no, not today. Not tomorrow, either. Maybe in a few years. I still believe that I need to know where I stand in life before I ask someone to join me on a potentially never ending quest to learn the answer. In the end, though, I like the idea of marriage. The idea of having someone to spend the rest of my life with who loves me and who I can love is a pleasant idea, a comforting idea.
Being a wife sounds good... being a mother... kind of different. On the other hand I learned that being a mother and being a wife aren't the same thing. Once they are combined, sure, they go hand in hand, but they don't have to be combined. You can choose to be one and not the other. Heck, nowadays you can choose to be either one all on it's own. I wouldn't want to be a mother without being a wife, but I can't object to being a wife without being a mom.
I also realized that I can't think of too many guys who want to be husbands. I'm sure guys want a wife. My pathetic ex boyfriend was like that. He wanted someone to take care of him, not someone to take care of. Marriage is a team sport (ha! CHEESE!) and it takes two people who are on the same side. So I guess now I know I need to find a guy who wants to be a husband as much as I want to be a wife.
I guess if I had a guy like that it wouldn't be so scary to become a mother, provided he wanted to be a father. There's another difference. There's the guys who want kids to have little play things to carry on their DNA and then there's guys who want to be fathers.
I sure as heck hope that guy is out there. Regardless of that I feel really comforted by having learned this. I never thought of mom and wife being two separate entities. It used to make me think that marriage was out of the question for me, but it's not. Now at least I know what I'm looking for. Well, not yet, but eventually. I know that when the time comes the guy I'll be looking for will be someone who feels about marriage as I do. I won't look for a guy who is ok with me being his wife but a guy actually wants to be my husband.
I thought it was all up to me, but it's not. There's two parts to a marriage and now I know both parts don't stand on my shoulders.

Bad sister.

I don't like children. I do not like them for an un-maternal woman I am. Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse. I do not like them here or there. I do not like them anywhere. I wouldn't like them if they were mine, and I definitely don't like them if they are yours. I LOVE my nephews and my niece. Seriously LOVE them with all my heart. This, however, does not mean I am eager to be around them or that I have the patience for them. Sure, I'll take them to the park but please don't ask me to indulge your little darling in a game of ANYTHING when I am confined inside. Actually, the park is probably the only place where I don't mind them.
On Saturday my sister asked me to babysit so she could go to work. Sigh... here starts the upcoming saga of asking me to baby sit every other week now that she's going back to work. Don't get me wrong I love my sister and I don't mind doing stuff for her. But baby sitting? That's a bit different. I don't like baby sitting and frankly every time she asks me to I become a bitter and resentful bitch.
On Saturday Butthole and I were already on limited time to hang out and that time was decreased considerable when I got stuck at her house for 5 hours. It ruined my day. Yes, I am that dramatic. It ruined my morning because my sister (as usual) didn't have the courtesy to give me an accurate time so even though the last time we spoke she said 10:30 AM she didn't pick me up til 1. I woke up early for nothing. Also I had my day planned around being done by 1. Of course now this meant my plans were to change.
I HATE CHANGING MY PLANS. Just thinking about it right now makes me queasy and infuriated. So my walk with my dog got cut short, I was forced to shove my lunch down my throat in a hurry and it caused my hang-out with Butthole time to be pushed back.
I don't want kids for a reason. That is to say I don't want to be around them and I don't want to be tied down by them. Funny how I haven't been able to avoid that since I was 14. I spent my whole freshman year of high school hauling ass home to get there on time to baby sit til 10 o'clock at night. I spent the following summer waking up at 6:00 in the morning watching Finding Nemo until I wanted to blow my brains out. It's actually pretty unfunny. It sucks.
It makes me resentful and it makes me feel guilty because I feel resentful.
I also feel guilty because I know I am judgemental towards my sister, though I would never tell her. I feel like telling her how I shouldn't be punished because I was able to avoid making the same mistakes as her. I feel like telling her that I'm not the idiot who got pregnant at 18 so I shouldn't have to pick up the slack for her irresponsibility.
I am a terrible sister. She would never feel this way about me. She would blindly do me the favors without a second thought. She wouldn't dream of judging my life. You know how else I'm a terrible person? Because for every one of these thoughts I think "Yeah... but I'd never give her the chance. I hardly ask for favors and I don't make big enough mistakes for her to judge."
So I'm a bad sister and an arrogant piece of crap.
I'm judgemental of her life choices. I don't mind baby sitting for her every once in a while so that her and her husband can get away. ALL parents need that. But I find myself hating the fact that I have to baby sit because she refuses to attempt a relationship with my mom. I have to baby sit because her husband behaves like unhelpful ass. I have to baby sit because her in-laws are a bunch of selfish pricks who can't put down the cigarette to protect the kids' health. I have to pick up the slack for everyone because of HER choices. She is the one that had kids. She is the one who married an asshole. She's the one who married an asshole with asshole relatives. And as difficult as my mom is SHE is the one that refuses to talk to my mom forcing me to live on a tight rope waiting for my mom to blow a gasket AND picking up the Grandma slack.
So yeah. It makes me angry and I resent her for it. A sister shouldn't do that. I am a bad sister.